Scrapbooks Are Never Finished
by Kuramanamanama
Summary: The nations are finally settling down and having families. Watch as their children are born and grow into adults with plenty of laughs and bumps along the way! Obviously contains mpreg. GermanyItaly USUK SpainRomano GreeceJapan LithuaniaPoland and others!
1. Germany & Italy's First: Rosalina

Disclaimer: Don't own it. Wish I did. Move along.

I know some people are already doing this, so I'll tell everyone right now that I am sorry if anything is similar to your stories. It is not intentional.

I, unfortunately, will not be taking requests. I have pairings planned out for a reason. I'm pretty easygoing and could normally write a request, but for the sake of this fic, in which each chapter is linked to another, I can't do that and have to stick to these pairings I've decided upon with a friend. Sorry! But if you have a request for a certain couple or just a one-shot of any kind, please feel free to say so by pming me or leaving a review. Because while this fic does contain USxUK, I've also quite recently taken a shine to USxJapan. I will write requests in a separate story. So just lemme know and I'll serve you~!

~*~

Germany and Italy: Rosalina

When Ludwig came home, he was used to calling out for his wife and their daughter. Of course, his so called wife was actually a husband, but whenever Ludwig introduced him to anyone, he insisted he was his wife. It was cute and endearing, so Ludwig let him be. Besides, most people took him for a woman right off the bat. He had, after all.

Today, when he walked in and said rather loudly "I'm home", he didn't get a reply. That wasn't anything unusual. The two were usually too preoccupied with their current activity or having a siesta to notice him. It was common practice for Ludwig to go looking for Feliciano and their princess by walking through every room in the house. Sometimes he found them in the strangest places. He remembered a day where he had checked the bathroom and found his baby girl using the shower head to send out an S.O.S. while her mama used a bucket to empty the "ship" of water by disposing of it in the sink.

What was surprising was he found his lover without their treasure. Feliciano was in the living room, his back to Ludwig, hunched over the coffee table and looking strangely focused. The female Ludwig-look-alike was nowhere to be found.

Deciding to surprise him, he stalked over quietly, until he stood just behind the Italian. There was an evil smirk on his face as he leaned over and whispered against the back of Feliciano's neck, "I'm home."

Like he expected, the smaller man screamed and jumped, turning around to hold up his hands in surrender, starting to shout out Ludwig's name for help.

He relaxed when he was enveloped in a hug, as he finally recognized his abuser as his husband. "Ve~! You scared me, Ludwig! That wasn't very nice!"

Nonetheless, he returned the hug.

Ludwig pulled away, kissing him on the cheek as he did so, to ask, "Where's Rosalina?"

"Ve...Rosie went to Japan and Greece's place. She'll be back soon though. I told her to come home for dinner tonight. It's pizza! Her favorite!"

"Ah. And what are you doing?"

Feliciano's grin widened. "Scrap-booking!"

"Really?"

He leaned over the other's shoulder to get a look at the table, and sure enough, it was littered with photographs and scraps of paper along with glue sticks and tape. A pair of scissors dangled hazardously on the edge of the surface, and if Rosie had been there the German would have scolded Feliciano for his carelessness, despite the fact that she was now six and knew the proper way to handle the simple tool. He scanned the cluttered collection of pictures and his eyes rested on one of Rosalina modeling her then-new dress for her mama. Her mouth was curled up into a great smile, her tiny body posing with one hand on her hip and the other's index finger just barely touching the side of her cheek. The dress, now worn often by the German-Italian girl, was a light, pale blue that matched her eyes. Short sleeves puffed out and were lined with white cotton trim, as was the rest of the dress. A sash of the same color wrapped around her waist to tie into a bow in the back. It went down just a little past her knees, white tights taking over until they met black Mary-Janes. Completing the outfit was a tiny bow made of the same material as the dress, drawing a few strands of hair away from her face.

"_I feel like a princess, Vati!"_

And he had replied, "_You are a princess."_

"Look at this one!" Feliciano picked up a picture he had been working with to show to Ludwig. "When Rosie was first born! The first time you held her! Oh, it's such a cute picture! The only time I've ever seen you cry, ve~!"

A blush rose to his cheeks as he took it to get a better look. It was true. He had cried once he finally held his baby. He had waited so long to meet her. He never imagined that something so wonderful could happen to him. First Feliciano and then her? Ludwig felt like the luckiest man alive, especially in that moment. He couldn't help but cry. She was his and Feliciano's and, God dammit, she was perfect!

This picture didn't show him crying, but he did have a mystified look on his face as he watched her sleep. Feliciano could be seen on the right, leaning on his side, hand used to prop up his head, as he observed the two interact face to face for the first time. He had started to laugh when Ludwig cried, eventually joining him as they cooed over her.

It was definitely a fond memory. He wondered just how many others there were. Too many to count, it seemed.

"Have you been working on this long?"

"For about four hours now. I didn't want Rosie around when I did it. I want to show her when I'm all done. This is her baby book. England was talking about Lizzie's and it sounded like something I should do. We can always look back at this. Even when she's moved out. Even when she g-gets m-married a-a-and--! A-and h-has her-her own k-k-k-ki-ki--!"

He was off. Feliciano started to sob, upset at the very thought of their baby growing up. Ludwig didn't like the idea much either. His heart ached as Feliciano said those things. Wrapping his arms around the man, he hushed him and stroked his hair, kissing his cheek every now and then until he had finally calmed down.

"I-I'm sorry! It's just--! Every time I think about that...I can't help it! She's too precious! I don't wanna lose her, Ludwig! I don't want her to ever even move out!"

"I know. I don't either. But she's only six, you know. It'll be awhile before we have to be concerned about that."

"It'll go by so fast...It feels like just yesterday you were freaking out about the first time I let Prussia hold her..."

"To be honest, I still worry when he does..."

It was then that Rosalina decided to come home, throwing open the door with childish, unnecessary force so that it slammed against the wall and swung back to nearly close itself. After gently kicking it closed with her foot, she started for the stairs, calling, "Mama! Mama, I'm home!"

"In here, bella!" Feliciano called, still in Ludwig's lap and wiping his eyes.

The little girl deterred from her earlier path and looked into the living room, her baby-blue dress from the picture swishing around her in her great hurry, Germany's own eyes lighting up and reflecting back at him when she saw her father had come home early.

Ludwig looked over his own shoulder to smile at her. "Meine Prinzessin! Willkommen zu Hause!"

"VATI!" she shouted, launching herself at him.

Ludwig let out an "oof!" once she fell into his arms, which were now full of two giggling, smiling Italians.

"I'm going to make dinner now," Feliciano stood and looked at the blond pair, the younger now reaching up to curiously touch her father's head as she often did. He laughed when he heard her call her vati "silly" for slicking his hair back. "I know. I tell him that too. But doesn't Vati look handsome no matter what?"

Rosie looked at him and smiled, nodding in agreement, before blinking her baby blues and cocking her head, her curl (the only physical trait she seemed to inherit from her mother) bouncing as she did so. "Mama, can mine and Vati's pizza have wurst on it?"

At this, Ludwig turned his gaze on Feliciano as well. The both of them had hopeful looks on their faces, their blue eyes making him shiver. They were so identical it was scary. There was no doubt that Ludwig was Rosalina's father.

"You break Mama's heart, Rosalina! Eating Vati's icky sausages..." he dramatically placed a hand to his forehead.

"They're not icky, Mama!" she protested. "They're very tasty! And I like potatoes, too!"

Feliciano shook his head, overdramatic tears beginning to cling to his lashes. "I only wished she would inherit my taste...I wanted her to look like you and take after you. All I wished was for her to have the same taste buds...But no! She has to be a female miniature of you! Did she inherit anything from me? Did she really?"

"Your curl?" he suggested, a smile starting to creep his way onto his face.

"My curl! That's it!" the Italian turned on his heel towards the kitchen, sniffling as he did so. "It's not fair! She lived in me for nine months! Nine months! But what do I have to show for it? Nothing! She might as well be Romano's daughter! Or Canada's!"

"Who?" Germany's eyebrows scrunched together in thought, before he shook his head and picked up his daughter, who had been playing with her long locks of golden hair and comparing them to her father's. "I see a lot of you in her. It's the little things."

Feliciano paused in his movements, his sobs immediately halting. "Ve...Really?"

"Mm. Her smile is the same as yours. Her nose, too. And then she does things that only you would."

Italy smiled and no more was said as he gathered the ingredients to start making the pizza. Rosalina started to tell her father all about her day at Sanosuke's house, taking the most time to explain in great detail the foods they had for snack. As she did so, Germany glanced at Italy with a look as if to say, "See?"

Italy noticed and understood, his grin widening as he wrapped his arms around their daughter to pull her into a sudden hug. "You're sooooooo cute, Rosie! Mama's heart melts just looking at you!"

"Ack! Mama!" she had been startled by his attack, but returned it just the same. "I was telling Vati a good story and you interrupted!"

But neither of the three seemed to really care.

"Mama, don't forget the wurst! You are going to put it on, aren't you? I really like wurst, Mama! Vati does too, so I think you should! I'll help, you know! I really like cooking! Especially pasta and wurst and potatoes and lasagna and--!"

She was definitely their daughter.

* * *

"I found something while I was looking for materials for the scrapbook," Italy mentioned, mostly naked, save for one of Germany's button down shirts, and already in bed.

"Ah. Was it anything interesting?" Ludwig asked as he slipped into the black muscle shirt he usually wore at night.

"Wellllll....!" Feliciano started, telling the German that he was most definitely up to something probably less than innocent. His suspicions were confirmed when Italy dashed from the bed to the closet, giggling as he brought out an article of clothing.

A dark blue dress with three-quarter sleeves stared at Ludwig, and he recognized it immediately, a nostalgic look taking over his face.

"This is your maternity dress..." he reached out a hand to stroke the fabric, the soft and comfy cotton material greeting him. His eyes softened. He remembered Italy wearing this all throughout his pregnancy. Elastic in the dress made it suitable to wear even as the baby grew, allowing him to sport it in the first trimester, second, and then the third.

"I want to wear it again."

Germany glanced up, broken out of his reverie. "What?"

"I said I want to wear it again."

Ludwig studied Feliciano's face, already knowing by his tone that he was completely serious.

"Well, if you want to wear it, then I'm not going to stop you. You wear versions of the maid outfits from the time you spent at Austria's place around the house anyway. It's not like it will bother me."

Now the Italian looked frustrated. "Ludwig...I don't want to wear it just because I think it's pretty and comfortable..."

He looked at him again, the realization slowly dawning on him.

"Are...Are you implying...?"

"And everyone says _I'm _the dense one!" he smiled coyly, before becoming serious. "I really want to...Can we? I-I miss...I miss being..."

Germany reached his hands up to cup his face, forcing him to look him straight in the eyes. "Are you sure? You want to go through this again?" He stroked Italy's cheeks with his thumbs.

Feliciano placed a hand on top of one of Ludwig's own. "Wasn't it worth it?" The Italian smiled, tears coming back to his eyes. "I miss it, Ludwig. I really do. And I want another. The pain of labor is nowhere near as great as the joy that a child brings..."

Silence. Italy knew Ludwig was thinking and stayed quiet, not even moving an inch.

Finally, "Well! You would know that better than me...I think Rosalina would like a sibling...I wouldn't mind another, you know...It might even be nice to have...To have a..."

"A big family!" Italy finished, throwing himself at the German, squealing with excitement. "Thank you, Ludwig! Thank you! Thank you!"

Germany struggled a bit as the shorter man started to shower him with sloppy kisses, trying to get him to calm down.

Eventually he gave up.

* * *

Feliciano liked wearing dresses, it seemed. Not only did he create his own that resembled his old outfits from his childhood, but he wore ones that others sent him. He loved it when he would receive a new one from Hungary or Japan. Poland sent him "totally cute" accessories and swapped tips with him. Germany didn't mind any of this (save for some of Poland's tips, which didn't always have to do with clothes, but rather risque ways of removing them...) and found them adorable on his little ally, if his blush was any indication.

While Germany didn't find it the least bit strange anymore for the Italian to show up in frilly skirts, his brother had been furious during the first two years of their marriage.

"Don't you have any pride as a man dammit?! Even if you're an idiot fag, shouldn't you act like a guy?! Shit! It's embarrassing!"

"But Lovino, we both wore dresses when we were little! It isn't such a bad thi--!" he had started to protest, but his brother would have none of that.

"It's not just the dresses dammit! It's everything! You go around calling yourself the potato-bastard's wife for crying out loud! Jesus Christ, could you be any more of a moron?! And what cologne are you WEARING?! You smell like a goddamn girl! Are you--?! ARE YOU WEARING PERFUME?!"

"Ve...It smells nice...And Ludwig--!"

"What about that guy?! Does he make you do this or something?! Some kinda perverted abuse?! We'll go get an annulment right now, because that bastard obviously doesn't love you the--!"

It was the first time Feliciano had ever hit his brother. Ludwig had just come home and ran towards the room he heard shouting, stopping at the doorway to witness the entire spectacle unfold. Lovino's visits were never pleasant, but this was far more extreme than usual. He could already start to see the tears well in the younger Italian's eyes.

"Lovi...!" he breathed out, his voice shaking. "I-I'm sorry, but I--! Ludwig loves me! I know he does! And I love him too, so you've no right to say those hurtful things! You're my big brother, Lovino...I just wish you could be happy for me..."

The elder Italian looked absolutely gobsmacked. After staring at his younger brother for a few moments, he finally turned and, with surprising calm, walked out of the room, past Ludwig without so much as a glance, and out the door.

Meanwhile, Feliciano sank to the floor and began to bawl. He tried to cover it up; Ludwig watched as he rubbed his eyes to wipe away the tears. He heard his breath constrict as he held in a sob. Slowly and gently, the German reached out to his lover, taking him into his arms and just holding him, letting him sob quietly--near silent--into his shoulder.

He had only truly recovered when they found a basket of tomatoes the next day on their doorstep. There wasn't a note, but it was obvious who had sent it. It was the closest thing to an apology and a blessing they were ever going to get and they knew it.

But even as the cheerful Italian started to act himself again, the event still burned in Ludwig's mind. He was amazed that his little Feliciano would actually hit someone--especially his brother! Yet that wasn't what he spent most of his time pondering. Rather, he wondered about what Lovino had said; about Italy dressing and acting like a girl.

And, after years of experience, Ludwig knew just when to talk to him about it.

RIght after making love was the best time to ask Italy something serious, provided he was still awake. So as soon as they were done and he had wrapped his much larger arms around Italy's tiny body, his back to his chest, he came out and asked him straight.

"Italy, why do you act like a girl? It doesn't bother me, but your brother was right in a way. It's odd."

Beating around the bush wasn't a wise thing to do with Feliciano. Another thing Ludwig had learned form experience.

"Hmmmm?" the Italian droned out, tired and relaxed against the German man's chest. "Don't you like it?"

"Like it?" Germany asked, surprised.

"I do it for you, you know," Italy said, suddenly sounding quite serious. "You're into girls, right?"

It would be a lie to say he didn't take Ludwig's breath away often, but this left him absolutely speechless. The thoughts that went on in the brunette's head just gave him a stabbing pain in his temples when he tried to comprehend them.

Finally finding his voice, "_What?_"

Feliciano sighed, rolling over to look the blond in the eyes. "Don't lie to me, Ludwig. I know. I've seen the magazines. And the DVDs. And those VCR tapes from the camera. Oh, and there was that--!"

"I get it!" Germany had to do his best not to shout, lest he wake Rosalina (not that that was likely even if he did shout, considering she shared her mother's knack for sleeping through just about anything). Ignoring that Italy had gone through his things, he got straight to the point once more. "Feliciano, have I done something to upset you? To give you any doubt? Do you think I don't mean it when I tell you I love you? Or when I kiss you? What on Earth has gotten into you? It's not like you to be so...so untrusting..."

He hadn't meant to sound so hurt by Italy's words. He was just surprised for the most part, even if it did sting a little and cloud his mind with fear and uncertainty.

"Ludwig...You prefer girls. Let's not lie to each other. No lies. We promised that even before we were married. No lies. I'll be honest with you, too. I prefer guys. Girls are great, but guys are the best. But I know you think the opposite. Or rather, you think girls are great and guys are just guys. Nothing special. If I ever thought you were going to cheat, I would be looking at your interactions with women rather than men."

Now that _really _hurt. "I would _never_ cheat on you! _Never_! I can't believe you don't trust me!"

As the disgruntled former Holy Roman Emperor started to leave the bed with a scowl on his face, Italy nearly tackled him back onto the bed. "I never said you would or were or had! I just mean...Ve...S-sometimes I g-get jealous..."

Now that wasn't something you heard coming from the younger of the Italy brothers every day. It was enough to stop Ludwig from once more attempting to leave the room. The Italian clung to one of his wrists anyway, as if he were afraid he would disappear at a moment's notice.

"You get jealous? When I'm...?"

He hung his head, half-ashamed and half-embarrassed. "When you're with girls...I...I get jealous..."

"_Why?"_

"Because they look at you like I do! They look at Germany with impressed, awe-struck eyes and the biggest smiles and they start to get all red in the face and giggly and then they start to do things with their hair and their eyelashes and some of them even _touch_ you or bend over so you can see right up those stupid, short skirts of theirs and when you look, they're either wearing some really really awful lingerie or sometimes NOTHING AT ALL! And even though Germany is good and faithful and those are all the more reasons he's attractive, I can't help but get all mad because Germany is mine and nobody else should be able to wear pretty things just for him expect me!"

He was close to tears by the end of his rant. He had even slipped into his old way of speaking, referring to Ludwig by his country name and never addressing him as "you". Feliciano sniffled and used one hand to wipe at his eyes, the other still clinging to a wrist bigger than his hand could wrap around.

To his chagrin, Germany started to laugh.

And that made the Italian sob even harder, feeling like such an idiot.

Which is exactly what Ludwig called him.

"My foolish, little Italian..." he laughed as he planted a kiss on the other's forehead, wiping away the tears with his thumbs, Italy's hand slipping from where it had been the past minute or so. "You adorable, little fool...Mein Gott...I love you so much it hurts."

"Ludwig...?"

"Yes, call me that. I told you. You're not allowed to call me Germany anymore. Feliciano..." he felt as smug as a cat who got away with the canary. "After all my possessive displays...I thought I was the only one getting jealous here! But you're just as bad, aren't you?"

Ludwig chucked and wrapped himself around the other, all of the unwanted feelings and emotions washed away by the tinier man's rant. Italy started to smile softly into the crook of Germany's neck.

"Ludwig...I really love you, you know?"

"I know. I love you too." Germany pulled back from the embrace for just a moment. "That still doesn't explain why--"

He cut himself off and a curious look crossed his face.

"W-what?" the younger was feeling a bit anxious. If he knew, that would be so embarrassing...

"Italy, do you act like a girl...Because you think I'll like it better? Because you're jealous of the girls and think...That...I'd like you better if you were a girl?"

He bit his lip, and that was all the answer Germany needed before he started to cry out with laughter.

"You idiot!" he laughed. "I love you just the way you are! You don't need to be a girl!"

"But--!"

"Yes, I like girls. You were right in your assumptions, but Feliciano, you don't need to be a girl for me to love you! Whether you're a man or a woman doesn't matter to me! I love you! My stupid, little Italian who always needs to be rescued! The one that likes to make pasta no matter what time of day it is! The one that steals my books and then hides them when he thinks I'm not paying him enough attention! That's the person I'm in love with! Oh, mein Gott...You're just so..."

And as if it was the only way to convey what he was trying to say, he pulled Italy into a sharp and hard kiss for a moment.

"I love you," he breathed, smiling at the other. "Nobody else can do this to me. Man or woman. Just you. Feliciano Vargas."

"That's Feliciano Beilschmidt to you!" he teased.

"Ah, how could I forget..."

It was a peaceful silence they entered, only broken by the ruffling of sheets as they started to settle down for real this time.

"Ludwig, can I ask a question?"

"Mm?"

"Can I...Just because now I know you don't need me to act like a girl or be a girl or anything, but can I still...um...Can I still wear the dresses?"

He felt his chest shake with laughter again, a small smile coming to his lips as well.

"Feliciano, just do what makes you happy. I think you're beautiful no matter what. In a dress or in a suit. Or sailor fuku. But I don't like the way Japan looks at you in that, so please try to wear that only at home."

"Okay! Because you know, Ludwig, I really like dresses! They're so much fun! And they really do look good on me, don't they?"

"Mm."

"Oh, and I still wanna wear that perfume Hungary gave me! It smells so good! Like flowers! Much better than that weird stuff guys are supposed to wear...Oh, but I like your cologne! It's very you! Don't change it, okay? I'm so used to it now it'd be weird. And don't go without it, because then you smell a little like wurst, and I don't like that smell. But it's not like the main thing, it's only if I really try to define it, so it's not like you smell bad or anything! But yes, I think I'm going to just wear what I think looks cute on me, okay?"

"Feliciano, go to sleep."

The Italian giggled and kissed his cheek. "Okay! Oh, but by the way, I'm going out with Poland tomorrow. We're going shopping for bedroom dresses! I don't know what that really means. 'Bedroom dresses'? How strange! What sort of dress do you wear to the bedroom? Nightgowns, maybe? But I don't sleep in anything except for your shirts, so maybe I just wo--Where are you going?"

While Ludwig had no problem with Feliciano wearing dresses, he did have a problem with stupid Poles corrupting his innocence and was about to call a soon-to-be-very-mortified Lithuanian about how he should really look for what his wife was planning behind his back.


	2. Lithuania & Poland's Pregnancy

Wow, guys! Thanks for all the reviews and whatnot! I'd like to reply to those reviewers who don't have an account here, so this is for them!

Doesn't-Have-An-Account Person: Well, lemme be the first to encourage you to make an account! Even if ya don't wanna post anything, it's convenient because you can keep track of favorite stories and authors. That was why I first made an account, actually. I never planned on writing anything to be honest. But anyway! Thanks for your review. Yes, Poland corrupts Liet quite often. However, I differ in the view that Poland is the seme. I believe in Seme!Liet all the way! Actually, I have my own little theory about Poland, and it will be explored in this chapter. You may not like it, but it was just something that I thought of and figured I should go for. It's an interesting issue that has hardly any fics addressing. As for mpreg, yes, I have to agree with you. I don't get it either. Before you go all "WTF you hypocrite!" on me, lemme explain myself a bit. I typically don't do mpreg. But I hardly think of the Hetalia characters getting pregnant as mpreg because they're not really people. They're countries, and as also explained in this chapter, there are many mysteries surrounding them. Because a country can be referred to as a motherland OR fatherland, it stands that depending on the circumstances their bodies change to accommodate. Such that if Italy plans on having a child, he now has a uterus. Believe me, I would NEVER do mpreg for any other series because I agree with you. I'm very picky about the fics dealing with childbirth. I have researched pregnancy and birth extensively in the past, so I have my own pet-peeves. For instance, the baby WILL NOT open its eyes when its father first holds it. It WILL NOT have purple eyes like the mother or father. Babies don't open their eyes for the first few weeks, and when they do, they are always blue. A baby's eye color changes quickly, but when it first opens its eyes they will be blue. Sorry for my long reply! Now I hope you enjoy this LietPol chapter!

Akito 17: You know, I didn't even realize that coincidence, but you're right! I was actually talking about Rosalina's looks! Everyone seems to agree that if Italy and Germany had a daughter she would have blond hair and blue eyes. I'm no exception. Lol Thanks for pointing out the not-so-obvious things Detective Conan! But I have to agree. Family-making fics=SQUEE! And you will definitely see some more LudwigxFeliciano family action. They are my OTP as well. You will see them mentioned in side stories, appear occasionally (just wait until Vati/Uncle!Gilbert shows up with his kids!), and they will have a few other chapters of their own too. I already started writing the next one, actually. But because the chapter was already quite long, I decided that I'd go in cycles. So now you're going to have to sit through LietPol!

Disclaimer: I asked Santa and my Fairy Godparents to give me ownership of Hetalia. I got a piece of a coal and a reading from Da Rules. I'm thinking about asking Norm next.

It was strange. He hadn't seen Poland at all today, and to be honest, he was getting worried. If Liet couldn't see Poland for some reason, he always got a phone call. No matter what, he talked to Poland at least once a day. Even when he was in a bad mood, he used all of his willpower to remain cheerful and pleasant for him. And when the Pole didn't feel like talking (on _very_ rare occasions), he stayed on the line even when there was nothing but silence to greet him. Sometimes Poland would hang up on him, but he never ignored a ringing telephone. He never refused to answer.

He had left fifteen messages on Poland's phone.

"Dammit, Feliks!" he cursed, the phone's ring about to cut and ask him to leave a message.

However, just as he was about to hang up, he heard a shaky voice mutter a faint "H-hello...?"

"FELIKS! Thank God you're all right!" he nearly shouted into the phone. He was overwhelmed with joy at hearing his voice, but it turned to anger and annoyance in an instant. "Do you have _any_ idea how worried I was?! It thought something happened! I thought Russia kidnapped you or something! Why didn't you answer your phone?!"

"I...I left...It just wasn't on me..." the words were barely above a whisper.

"Feliks...Are you all right?" Lithuania frowned, his previous rage disappearing.

There was a shaky breath at the other end. "Oh, I'm fine, Liet...Like, seriously. Don't worry and stuff. I-I--! I've g-got--! Got ev-everything under c-contro--!"

He was crying, that much was obvious. Trying his best not to freak out, the brunette sighed and remained calm. He couldn't start shouting what was wrong and ask him what he should do. That would only startle and frighten the blond more. "Where are you?"

"Liet! I'm like, totally fine! Don't come over or anything!" Feliks shouted at him, through his tears, he was sure.

"So you're home?"

"DON'T COME!"

The line went dead, but Russia's former favorite didn't mind. He was already putting on his coat and grabbing his keys anyway.

Lithuania quickly found the correct key on his chain to the old house. Poland had locked his front door. Another oddity. Letting himself in, he did a quick scan of the foyer. Nothing. It looked like Feliks was playing hide-and-seek with him. No matter. Liet knew Poland's house like his own. There was nowhere he could hide and he wouldn't be able to find him.

After searching each room on the bottom floor, he finally started up the stairs. To his surprise, Poland was once again nowhere to be found. Liet had checked every room and every closet! All the nooks and crannies had been inspected as well. He couldn't believe he was unable to find the Pole.

With a sigh, he slowly walked towards the railing of the stairs and leaned against it. He muttered to himself, "Dammit...Where are you Feliks?"

It was then that he heard it. A muffled sob and the shaky intake of breath. It was coming somewhere to the left of him. But to that side was nothing but a solid wall. Still, he could hear it. There was no way it could be anything other than Poland.

Moving slowly and cautiously, he quietly approached the source of the noise. Lightly, he tapped the wall and received a hollow sound in return. Surprised, he inspected the wallpaper with great scrutiny. Finding a tiny piece that was peeling away from the wall, he slipped a finger beneath it and slid it down the rest of the wall. A tiny door in the middle of the wall greeted him.

"A dumbwaiter..." he breathed.

Slowly, he opened the door to reveal Poland in a huddled mass. His knees were curled into his chest, arms wrapped tight around them, face buried in his knees. He was wearing his favorite school girl outfit; the one with the pink skirt and white sweater. Though he couldn't see his face, Liet could hear his heavy breathing and noticed his shoulders were shaking.

"Feliks?"

The boy didn't look up. If anything, he cried harder.

"Feliks, look at me," Lithuania said gently, resting a hand on Poland's head and dropping it down to rest lightly on his still hidden face. His cheeks were wet with tears.

Poland shook his head as best he could in his position. "I'm not, Liet."

"You're not what?" his voice remained steady and soft. He tried to awkwardly wipe away his tears, but the cramped space made it difficult.

"I'm _not_ gay!" Poland suddenly shouted, finally looking up at him. It was then he realized that Feliks' tears were more of anger than of sadness.

Liet frowned and pulled his hand away. "Feliks...You don't have to lie if you want to break it off with me."

This threw Poland into a fit of rage. His tiny fists shot out to punch at the Lithuanian's chest, screaming in anger as he did so like a little child during a temper tantrum.

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP! I'M NOT GAY! I'M NOT! GOD, YOU BASTARD! IT'S NOT MY FAULT! YOU SCREWED UP! YOU SCREWED UP! I DIDN'T ASK TO BE BORN LIKE THIS, I JUST WAS!"

"Feliks, calm down!"

"I'M NOT GAY! I SWEAR I'M NOT! I'M JUST TRAPPED IN THE WRONG BODY! THAT'S ALL! I'M JUST--!" he finally ran out of energy and slumped against the back of the dumbwaiter once more. He took a few more deep breaths before whispering, "I'm just trapped in the wrong body..."

Liet reached out and took one of Poland's hands into his own, thumb rubbing circles over the back of it. "What do you mean, mano meile?"

"Liet, I'm trapped in the wrong body," he repeated, calming down. "I'm a girl, Liet. On the outside I'm a man, but on the inside I'm a woman! Just look at me! I know you can see it, Liet. I know you can. You know everything about me. You must know this too! You know that I'm a woman on the inside, Liet! Otherwise, we wouldn't be together! You're not into guys! You loved that psycho chick Belarus before me! You're not gay either! But at least _you're _in the right body!"

The last part he spat bitterly.

Lithuania sighed and pulled the other nation towards him, wrapping his arms around the other's feminine waist. "Feliks...Feliks, what happened?"

"That bastard Prussia is what happened! He called me gay and started making fun of us! But I'm _not_ gay! I'm not!" had he been standing, Liet was sure Feliks would have stomped his foot childishly.

"Feliks, even if that's how you feel, you're still a guy..." he trailed off.

Poland slowly looked into his eyes, and realization hit him like a ton of bricks. Feliks had a small blush stretching out across his face, reverting back to the way he was when Liet had first met him.

"Will you still love me even after?"

He scooped the blond out of the dumbwaiter and into his arms, holding him like a new bride.

"Only if you promise to marry me."

Arms wrapped around his neck and he did his best to juggle Poland's weight while managing to kiss him at the same time. "I thought I already promised."

"Mm...You did, but every time I bring it up, you change the subject. No running away this time. Within the next two years."

Another chaste kiss. "One."

"Six months," he smiled and bent his head down again.

Poland met his lips and smiled. "Six weeks."

"Tomorrow," he repeated the pattern.

"Today!"

He chuckled and set the other down onto his loafer-clad feet. "You drive me insane, you know that?"

"I know," Feliks smiled, standing on his tip-toes to kiss the Lithuanian's nose. "But I want to wear a wedding dress when I'm in the body I belong."

"How long have you known?"

The other didn't question what he meant. He understood. "I think I've always known."

"You know, somewhere, I think I did too. Deep down."

"And that's exactly why I love you. You always know."

What Liet didn't know was how nations worked, exactly. Nobody knew.

When he awoke the next morning, he found a comfortable weight settled atop him. He had no doubt who it could be, especially since he was quite sure he had fallen asleep with Poland last night. Without opening his eyes, Lithuania wrapped his arms around the person tighter, sighing comfortably as he did so. He ran a hand down the length of the other's back and their sides, pausing abruptly when he noticed something. Making sure, he rubbed his hands along the sides of the nation's upper torso, feeling the blood rush to his face.

Last time he remembered, Feliks didn't have breasts.

_'Oh, shit!_' He cursed in his mind. If he cheated on Feliks he wouldn't be able to live with himself.

He was scared to open to his eyes, but knew that it had to be done. He had to get away. He didn't remember being with a girl last night, so hopefully she wouldn't remember what happened either.

Lithuania opened his eyes and came face to face with a head full of familiar blond hair.

The person on top of him nuzzled into his bare chest and moaned, "Liet...I'm too tired...It's early...Go back to sleep..."

"Feliks?!" he cried, sitting up and causing the other to roll over and groan with annoyance. He whipped the covers away and nearly had a nosebleed when he came face to face with what was certainly a woman's chest. Nervously, his eyes strayed to the lower half of Poland's body. This time he did have a nosebleed. "_Oh, God...!"_

Feliks rolled over and gave a moan in his—or rather, her—sleep. "Liet, stop yelling...Seriously, it's like, way too early..."

Liet jumped from the bed and ran towards the conjoined bathroom, the sudden loss of warmth making Feliks scrunch her face up in annoyance. She lifted her head and blinked her green eyes, vision becoming less and less blurry with each bat of an eyelash. She looked down at her new body and just stared for a few moments.

A smile lit up her face. "LIET! LIET, I CAN FINALLY FILL OUT ALL OF THOSE CUTE OUTFITS! C'MERE! THERE'S THIS TOTALLY CUTE ONE I WANNA SHOW YOU!"

As Liet's nose started to gush more blood, he wondered if he was going to have to get used to these sudden nosebleeds.

Poland's new body was amazing, Liet decided. It fit her and she seemed to be happier now more than ever. To his surprise, the only thing that had really changed was how physically attracted he was to Poland. He expected there to be a personality change within Feliks, but she was the same person she had always been on the inside.

This new physical attraction, however, was going to be the death of him.

Poland was beautiful before. He had always thought that. But now it was like he couldn't resist her. She radiated confidence and happiness. She was like a ray of sunshine, shining so bright. He craved that after living with Russia and the darkness of his place for so long. He yearned for her touch and found he suddenly had more energy for sexual activities.

Poland wasn't complaining a bit either. She felt complete. Her husband loved her and had proven that not only was her new gender okay with him, but he found her even more attractive. There was only one thing missing, she thought as she fixed a button on Liet's shirt (she hadn't meant to rip it; it was his fault, really, for being so damn good with his hands!).

So, being Poland, she decided to do what any good wife would in her position!

She flushed her pills down the toilet.

"Dieve, Feliks!" Lithuania panted. "Dieve!"

"Ugh! Liet!" she echoed him, barely able to even breath.

He bent down and kissed her as they reached their climax together, pulling out and gasping for air as he shakily knelt over her and kissed along her jaw and down her neck, making her squirm.

"Liet..." she whispered into his ear, making him shiver. He pulled away, still breathing hard, and looked at the worn out Pole beneath him. Understanding that there was no way she was up for a third time in a row, he rolled off of her and onto his back, wrapping his arms around her waist so that she would rest her head upon his chest. She did so, grateful that Liet was always gentle and respected her. He wasn't a tyrant like Russia, who was demanding in all areas, the bedroom being no exception from what she had heard from that blond boy. She couldn't remember his name. He looked like America, but wasn't.

Lithuania was kissing her hand now, the palm and the back, her wrist and her fingers. She giggled. People were always talking about how the romance-language nations were good in bed, but she didn't see how any of them could be better than Liet, who treated her like gold.

"Aš tave myliu," he murmured as he kissed the top of her head, making her smile.

"Kocham cię," she replied in her native language, turning so that she could look up at him. "Liet, what do you think of babies?"

"Babies?" he pulled her on top of him so that they could talk face to face. "They're cute. Why?"

"Would you ever want one?"

He raised his eyebrows and a smile tugged at his lips. "You know, I think I would."

"That's like, totally awesome! Because you're going to be an ojciec by the end of the next eight months. I just thought I should, like, give you the heads up and stuff!"

"What?!" Lithuania stared at his wife, awestruck. "Y-you're--! But how?! I thought you were on--!"

"Yeah, I like, threw out my birth control weeks ago!"

Joy quickly turned to frustration. "Wait...You decided we were going to have a baby...Without asking me?"

"Pretty much. I, like, knew you would be totes cool about it and all."

"Feliks, I am not 'totes cool' with it! You didn't even check with me!" he frowned at her.

"Liet, I don't see the big deal. You just said you wanted one, didn't you?"

"Well, yeah, but--!"

"Then, like, shut up and be happy!"

She tackled him into a kiss and Liet took her advice.

* * *

"That's right!" Feliks shouted angrily as she entered the world conference meeting. "Still no baby!"

She waddled into the room, glowering at everyone. She was nine days late and _not_ happy. Poland had never felt more uncomfortable, and while the other mothers/mothers-to-be could sympathize with her a bit, they knew she was having the worst pregnancy out of all of them. Lovino had been three days late with Enrico, and Spain would testify that had been hell. He pitied Toris. The Baltic nation must have been ready to pull his hair out by now.

Lithuania had gotten to the meeting before Poland, after much urging on her part. She didn't want both of them to be late. Secretly, he was happy he could get away from her for an hour while she was at a doctor's appointment. Feliks had been nothing but a bitch lately. He had tolerated it for the first day or two, but now it was so hard to put up with her. Liet was trying his hardest, but she certainly wasn't making anything easy on him.

The entire room stared at Poland as she walked by. Pregnant nations weren't anything unusual these days, but even the look on her face screamed "death to all who approach me". Latvia looked ready to cry when her gaze fell upon him.

"What's the matter? The fat, sweaty pregnant lady interrupting your precious blubbering time?"

And cry the boy did.

Toris, in an attempt to distract her wrath away from his youngest brother, stood from his chair and offered it to her. She had her own, of course, but he was trying to be polite; anything to calm the beast. "Here, širdelė! Sit down. Let me take your bag from you and--"

He paused as she sighed and clenched her fists at her sides. Turning slowly, she glared at him. "_You. _As if _you_ haven't done _enough!_"

"I know how miserable you are," Liet started. Everyone was staring at them. The meeting had been put on hold for the moment as the rest of the nations were curious to see what was transpiring between the two that were usually so pleasant towards one another. "I wish there was something I could do. I wish I was a seahorse..."

Poland's frown sharpened and she looked at him strangely. A few of the nations exchanged glances, others looked confused, and a few were shaking their heads.

"Because with seahorses, it's the male that carries the child."

No change in expression.

"And then also, I'd be very far away in the sea..." Liet finished lamely and sat down, dejected, as Poland took her own reserved seat.

"I have _never_ felt so uncomfortable in my _entire _life!" she moaned as she placed her bag onto the floor.

Seychelles tried to help. "I know...I've been there. I remember towards the end--"

"That's a real nice story, tiny nation nobody cares about, but could you tell it while getting me some iced tea?" Feliks cut her off without even sparing a glance.

A miffed Seychelles did her bidding as France frowned and shot a look at Liet, obviously telling him to "control your woman". All he could do in return was shrug.

Feliks shifted and started to groan, before finally screeching at her stomach, "Oh, God...GET OUT! GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT!"

Silence.

".......Let's." America finally said, and the nations immediately hopped up, eager to get away.

Liet was among them.

The door to Hungary's house swung open and closed heavily. A still very much pregnant Poland made her appearance known to Prussia and Elizaveta. Roderich could be heard playing the piano somewhere in the house. Hungary was about to go by his side and listen, but Gilbert had shown up and refused to leave. Untrusting of him alone in her kitchen (as he refused to come watch Austria play), she was babysitting him and making some Hungarian dish as she did so.

"Hey! Did you have the baby yet?" Gilbert smiled cheerfully.

Feliks was not amused. "Do you want me to come over there and sit on you? Because I'll do it."

"What are you doing here, Feliks?" Hungary asked her good friend.

"They wouldn't let me do any more of my duties as a nation. It's all up to Liet for now. They were, like, 'go ahead! Start your maternity leave now! Just rest! Get ready for the baby!'. Well, you know what? Screw them! If they don't want me at home, I'll just stay here with you guys!"

More silence. Poland was becoming accustomed to it.

"Or you could do volunteer work!"

"Whatevs. I have to pee. If I'm not out in five minutes, it's because I've died from choking on the potpourri stink," the blond shuffled over to the bathroom, ignoring the look of hurt on her best friend's face.

Prussia stood up and walked over to Hungary. "Okay, when she comes back out, you hold her nose, I'll blow into her mouth, and the kid will just pop right out of her!"

"Ugh...Shouldn't you be getting back to Ukraine? Stop bothering me..."

A knock at the door called Prussia's attention. He waltzed over and opened the door to reveal Lithuania.

"Oh, thank God! Take her away!"

"Hello, Gilbert. We have a doctor's appointment. Where is she?"

"In the bathroom," Elizaveta informed him.

"Feliks, we have to go!" he called.

"IN A MINUTE!"

The screech had him covering his ears to stop them from suddenly bleeding. "People ask me why we're together...Sometimes I just don't know what to tell them..."

"All right, all right, let's go!" Feliks groaned as she appeared in a new outfit. Her pregnant stomach jutted out from beneath her shirt. "Wait a minute...Do I have to pee again?...No, I'm good."

"You want to change first? The doctor's office is staying open late for us, but if you hurry..."

A murderous look. "No, I'm fine."

"Really? You don't think that's a little inappropriate?" the brunette eyed her exposed stomach.

"What?" she placed her hands on her hips and stomped a foot angrily.

"Good God, man, don't anger it!" the albino at his side hissed.

"Liet, it is one _hundred_ degrees outside. For the first time in weeks, I am _somewhat_ comfortable!"

"Fine, fine! Whatever you want! You're the mama." Liet held up his hands in defense as she walked by him.

"Come on, Liet, we're gonna be late!"

As she walked out the door and down the street, Lithuania turned to his companions. "Either of you want to be Liet?"

_Tap, ta-tap, ta-ta-ta-ta-tap. Tap, ta-tap, ta-ta-ta-ta-tap._

"Liet?"

"Hm?" he replied, drumming his fingers on the large examining chair that Poland was sitting on. She wore nothing but a hospital gown.

"Have you always been this irritating?" she asked him, receiving a shocked look from the Lithuanian.

"....Wow...."

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing, nothing! It's just...Well, lately, you've been a little short with me...That's all..." he tried to remain calm. Poland was a girl now. He couldn't smack her silly no matter how crazy she drove him (not that he ever would have even before). "I'm not trying to irritate you."

"Well! Then you must just have, like, a natural talent for it or something!" Feliks smiled at him.

"The doctor will be in soon. Why don't we not speak until then?" Toris suggested, at his wit's end.

Her fake, sugar-coated grin never left her. "Okay!"

More silence. It lasted for less than five seconds.

"Seriously, breath louder, Liet! That's great!"

Liet stared at his wife, eyes turning into a glare of pure exhaustion and frustration. "You know, we should probably ask the doctor if she even knows how to deliver a baby that's half human, half pure_ evil!"_

They glared at each other until the doctor walked in.

"Oh, hi, Doctor Padulski! How are you?" Poland greeted her with cheer and enthusiasm.

"Sure, you're nice to her..." Lithuania muttered under his breath.

"She has the drugs!" Feliks hissed back.

"We'll do just a quick check...So! Nine days late! You must be feeling a little uncomfortable," the doctor addressed as Poland spread her legs just right.

"Just a tad!" Liet snorted in the background, which only made the blond cast another glare his way.

"You're about 80 percent faced..." both the Lithuanian and Pole broke into grins, only to be dashed by the next words. "It still could last a little longer." At the looks on their faces, she quickly went on. "But there are ways we can speed up the process!"

"DO THEM."

His wife glared at him as the human woman grabbed a pamphlet behind her. "Actually, they're things that you can do. Just simple homemade remedies that I've found to be quite effective."

"We're ready to try anything," Feliks greedily snatched the paper from her.

"There's an herbal tea you could drink. Some castor oil. There's eating spicy foods. Taking a long walk," she listed.

"Good, done! We will do all of those!" Poland nodded her head.

"And the one that I've found to be most effective!" she looked at them now. "Sex."

Feliks turned and looked at her husband with an uncertain look. The way things had been going between them recently didn't really put either in the mood. Still, she was desperate, and her face revealed her thoughts. Liet didn't look quite as thrilled. She hadn't let him touch her in a month, and with each passing day she had become more and more hostile towards him. It got to the point where he didn't care because her unjustified anger was such a turn-off. He still felt that way. And now all of a sudden she wanted him just so she could start giving birth? Liet didn't work like that.

"You've got to be _kidding _me!"

"Finish your enchilada. Spain made all of this food for us, so eat it." Of course, it had been sent with a basket of tomatoes and a card addressed to the devil-woman with hopes that their demon-child would turn out to be a blessing rather than the curse it was now. As if Lovino wasn't a hot-headed homemaker all the time.

"Liet, we've tried all the spicy food! It's not working!" Poland complained.

"Here, have one of these peppers," Liet offered after taking a bite himself. He started to fan his tongue. "So hot! Dievas! Hot! Jeez...By the way, you don't want to touch the pepper and then your eye!"

He slammed his hand on the table, eyes burning. Feliks took a bite of the pepper and ignored him, throwing a napkin across the room, not caring where it landed.

"I am feeling nothing!" she sighed and watched her husband in his agony, massaging his eyes. "Speaking of hot, watching you do that really turns me on. I totally wanna have sex with you."

Toris gave her a "yeah, right" look.

"Ugh! Come on, Liet! Why are we wasting all our time with this other stuff?! We know what's going to work! It's doctor recommended!"

"I'm sorry, but we have to have _some _boundaries! Dievas, I'm dying!" he sucked in air through his teeth as the stinging sensation continued.

"This is insane, Liet!" Poland stood from the table. "I'm your wife! You should want to have sex with me! It's not like I've ever used it as a weapon or dictated when we can or can't have it! Just during the pregnancy with the hormones!"

"That last part is a lie and you know it! You _always _play the sex card! Be it seduction or withholding!And I'm not going to make love to you just so you'll go into labor! "

"Make love? What are you, a girl?"

Liet stared at her due to the sheer irony of what she said. "Always a _great_ way to get into a man's pants."

"Then just think of it as a service! Like, when you have to bang on the end of a ketchup bottle to get something out of it!"

"......I love when you talk dirty to me....."

"Ugh...I know, I know. It's not sexy. Not sexy at all..." she sighed and sat back down. "But c'mon, Liet! I'm dying here! You started it, now you finish it!"

He merely rolled his eyes.

"Come on, wuss! Make loooooove to me!" Poland snickered.

"You know what?!" the brunette could feel his anger rising.

"What?"

"Forget it..." he was trying to be good about this and remain calm.

"Oh, what now, Liet? You're not going to talk? How on _Earth_ will you _ever_ annoy me? Oh, I know!" Feliks rhetorically asked before making dramatic snoring noises. "You would think the damn jalapeno pepper would at least clear up your sinuses, but nooooooooo! That's not enou--!"

She was cut off as Liet suddenly crashed his lips to hers in a fierce kiss.

"What are you doing?!"

"I'M GETTING THAT BABY OUT OF YOU!" he screamed, unable to take it anymore.

"OH--!" she cried out, as he tried to get her into a better position, his hips beginning to awkwardly grind against her own due to the bump in between them. "Oh, God!"

"I know!" he breathed, already starting to enjoy himself as he kissed her neck.

"No, no!" she pushed him away, and stared down at herself. "...I think my water just broke..."

Liet stared at her, eyes wide.

"I am _GOOD!_" he announced before quickly getting off his wife and preparing to take her to the hospital.


	3. Spain & Romano's Children: 5

Yes, it took awhile to come out, but I wanted ten reviews before I did another chapter. C'mon, people! My chapters are long, so they should warrant SOME appreciation! Ah, well...Nevermind. Actually, it's not even that. It's just...I've been thinking more about Gerita, as it's my OTP, and I wanna write some more really bad! So writer's block was really the main cause for the wait....Sorry!

I present to you all a very special SpainLovino chapter! Which was kinda hard for me to write because my ex-boyfriend/now-friend is like Spain, and it's weird to write him like a daddy, especially when I told him I would never have kids with him because there'd definitely be something wrong with them. Hm....Which am I more like? I'm described by my friends as Poland, but sometimes I seem to have my own little Hungary moments....But don't we all?

ALSO! I realized that my page breaks aren't working. I'm very sorry for my LietPol chapter, which is horribly disfigured. So I've opted out of page breaks for ~*~. Sorry for any confusion! Oh, and yes. Poland's pregnancy WAS inspired by a Friends episode! Cookie to anyone who caught that! I love that show!

Disclaimer: I still don't own Hetalia. It's very upsetting and I don't wanna talk about it.

~*~

It was obvious who Enrico took after the most. If you couldn't tell by looking at him, then you should have been able to tell by the cheerful expression constantly plastered to his face and the way he absolutely adored his Mama.

Tiny, tan arms reached for Lovino, whining for attention in a way that was so utterly Antonio it made his heart melt. His padre, the one currently receiving all the attention, didn't mind backing away from the Italian's lips so he could pick up their son. That was probably in his best interest, anyway, since Antonio had caught him by surprise. He knew if he didn't quit soon he'd probably be decked pretty hard in the stomach, which wasn't one of the things he particularly enjoyed receiving from his "wife".

Another thing Romano would punch him for, Spain was positive. He pouted as he thought how it wasn't fair the younger Italian was so adorable with his German husband, always calling himself Ludwig's wife and wearing those cute little dresses. Antonio had eagerly introduced Romano as his wife early on in their marriage, but that led to a sock in gut and left quite the bad impression on the strangers when he had to run after the fuming brunette and apologize, putting up with Lovino's colorful vocabulary all the way.

"Mama," Enrico mumbled drowsily as his little hands fisted in the back of Romano's tan shirt.

"Si, bambino?" the look on Lovino's face was something only Enrico could induce. To be perfectly honest, Spain felt a tiny bit jealous. His son constantly saw the adorable side of Lovino while he was subjected more towards the moody (yet still cute) side than the calm, peaceful one.

The three-year-old responded only by nuzzling his face into his mother's shoulder, a sign that he was tuckered out and ready for a nap. He took at least one a day, and normally his father would join him if he was home. Antonio knew, with a strange, smug satisfaction, that Romano found this adorable. He would never tell him, but he had found the picture of them sleeping together in his wallet when he had needed an extra Euro. He wanted to steal the picture and then frame it for Lovino on Valentine's Day, which was when he ran the least risk getting hurt for a stunt like that.

When Lovino came back from putting their son down for his nap, he sighed and sat down next to the Spaniard on the couch.

Spain glanced at him with a questioning look, his eyebrow raised. "Lovi? Something the matter?"

"My stupid brother called," he muttered in reply, reaching up to rub at his eyes with a scowl. He dropped his hands to his sides and sighed again. Spain waited patiently for him to continue, and finally, "...That moron got himself knocked up by the damn potato-bastard..."

Spain obviously didn't realize what a horrible thing this was. "Magnifico! Lovi, that's wonderful! Oh, Ita-chan as a new mother! He must be so excited! I should invite Ludwig out for a beer and congratulate him! Ah, ah! We have to wake Enrico up and tell him the wonderful news! He's going to have a little cousin to play with now and--!"

At the mention of waking up his precious baby, Lovino grabbed Antonio by the collar. "Listen, you dumb bastard! This is awful! My brother is having the potato-bastard's spawn! It's going to be evil and eat nothing but potatoes and wurst! How could you possibly think this is something to be celebrated?!"

"Lovi, you're being unfair and unreasonable," the Spaniard frowned. "That child is going to be your niece or nephew. You should be happy for your brother. I'm sure besides Germany you were the first person he told. Remember how happy Feliciano was for you? Shouldn't you return the favor?"

"But _I_ married someone who isn't evil! _You're_ just an _idiot_!" he cried, hands still grasping his white, cotton shirt.

Antonio smiled. "Why, thank you! I'm glad to see you don't hate me!"

"Bastard, I said you weren't evil, I never said I didn't hate you!"

But a distinguishable blush had risen to the younger one's face, and Spain was satisfied.

Feeling brave and only a tad threatened, he reached up and kissed the Italian's nose, much to the other's chagrin. "Lovi, te amo."

He dropped him and turned around, trying to hide his face. Spain knew it was as red as a tomato by now.

~*~

If there was one thing Spain did right by Lovino's standards, it was taking care of their children. Romano could never call Antonio a bad father. Not when he adored his sons and was always trying to teach them things.

Even if they were things he'd rather his sons weren't taught.

At age seven, Enrico could already wolf-whistle. Lovino had learned this little tidbit of information during a mortifying experience at the World Conference.

"Papa, mira alla! La chica es muy bonita!" Enrico squirmed in his father's lap to get a better look at the object of his attention, neck craned so he could see down the long, mahogany table.

Romano wanted to kill Spain for actually looking as well. His hands tightened around Nicholas, the newest addition to their family. Angrily, the tiny man also shifted in his seat to glance at just what those two were gawking at.

Well, to be fair, it was only Enrico gawking, as Antonio only looked amused with an eyebrow raised and a smirk on his face that clearly said, "That's my boy!"

"Poland?!" Lovino accidentally squeaked, causing Spain's head to turn and look at him.

He shook his head. "I don't think it's the Pole that he finds so enchanting as much as it is the Lithuanian-Pole in her lap."

Eyes narrowed with suspicion, he reanalyzed just where Enrico's eyes were trained, and indeed, they were glued to a blond-haired, blue-eyed girl whose mother seemed more interested in playing with her hair than paying attention to the actual meeting. Lithuania, her father, sat right next to them, obviously paying enough attention to make up for his wife's lack of attentiveness.

"Magnifico..." he heard Enrico breath. Romano rolled his eyes. Dear God, he had another Spain on his hands...

But the boy's father smiled and pat him on the head. "Why don't you go and ask her to play in the other room with the rest of the children? You're big enough that you don't need to be around Mama and Papa all the time now, right?"

"Is Senor Switzerland watching us today?" Enrico frowned at the thought.

"No, he's right over there. Today is Prussia's turn. You'll be in good hands," Antonio assured him.

His face lit up. "Tío Gilbert!"

"Tío Gilbert?!" Romano hissed. "The potato-bastard's brother?!"

But Enrico was already sliding off Spain's lap, eager to interact with the girl only a year or two younger than himself. Antonio grabbed him just as he was about to scurry away and out of reach.

Addressing the questioning look, he only paused to give a large smile and words of encouragement. "Treat her delicately, like a princess. You have proud, Spanish blood flowing through your veins. You speak the language of both romance and passion. You are Spanish and Italian. No woman can possibly escape your charm. Remember that and you cannot fail! Make your padre proud!"

"Of course, Padre!"

When Enrico was finally out of ear-shot, Romano gave Spain a heated glare. "Somehow I get the feeling that was your own personal pep-talk every time I slammed the door in your face."

"With only a minor difference, yes. And I would tell it to myself every time you refused to pick up the phone, didn't show up for our dates, punched me in the stomach, shoved me away when I tried to hug you, spat on the ground after I kissed you, kneed me in the groin after I grabbed your--"

"ENOUGH ALREADY!" Romano stood up and slammed a hand on the table, the other still carefully cradling Nicholas.

Germany looked at him with a sense of admiration for a split-second. "Thank you, Romano, I was about to do that myself. America, somehow I don't think getting hamsters to generate the power for all of our cities will work to solve our global energy crisis."

"But hamsters are so cute!" Feliciano cooed, wrapping his arms around one of the German's own. "We should get one for Rosie!"

"We already have three dogs. She doesn't need another pet," Germany sighed.

And then it happened. A wolf-whistle, cutting through the air. All conversation stopped until Poland's obnoxious laughter broke the silence.

"Oh my God! This kid is like, a total charmer!"

Romano and Lithuania stared at Enrico with an expression that could only be described as a mixture of being horrified and aghast. The girl Enrico's hand was now intertwined with just looked a little confused, but she didn't appear to be turned off by his behavior.

"Hermosa, que hermosa! Tu pelo es como rayos de la luna en una noche hermosa. Sus ojos es como el más brillante de las estrellas! Como el océano! Como dos piscinas de azul, guiño a mí, me arrastraba en tan profunda que me estoy ahogando en ellos!" the romancing boy paused to trail kisses from Anja's wrist to her elbow, before he continued. "Nadie posee la gracia Diosa como ti! Tambien los dioses palidecen en comparación con alguien como usted! Solo queiro saber tu nombre, es suficiente para que un niño pobre como yo morir feliz!"

His kisses continued up to the cuff of her short-sleeved dress, where he only stopped and smiled at her before reaching to pull back the offending cloth so that more skin was available to him.

Lovino's mortified squeak managed to make it's way out of his throat and he was at his son's side in an instant, ripping his arm away and shouting something in Italian. Switzerland, for the good of the child still in Romano's arms, snatched the baby away and handed it off to his brother for safe keeping. The elder Italian's unnaturally high pitched, rapid screams were impossible to translate. Even Feliciano couldn't make out what he was saying.

Enrico didn't look ashamed a bit, only rather annoyed that his madre had intervened. "Mama, you embarrass me!"

"_I _embarrass _YOU?!"_ and there was more shouting as Lovino bent to Enrico's level so that he could smack his son on the nose, as he didn't have the heart to truly physically discipline him, no matter how much he felt like it. "Come ti permetti...Come ti permetti! Vergogna il nome Vargas bene! Se non fossi mio figlio, lo giuro a Dio vorrei--!"

"Lovi, calm down!" Spain finally decided to do something, seeing the murderous look in South Italy's eyes. "He's just a boy, don't forget that!"

"Sta 'zitto, bastardo! Questa è tutta colpa tua, in qualche modo!" The elder Italy brother continued speaking in Italian, but seemed to have calmed down enough to the point that people could understand him. "Quello che voglio sapere è dove ha imparato--! Apprese tali tattiche spregevoli l'arte di corteggiare una donna! "

"Padre taught me!" Enrico piped up. "He told me to copy what he did with Mama, so I did!"

Ah, and now that furious gaze was directed towards Spain. "Oh, so _you_ taught him this...Well, I can't say I'm surprised..."

Spain could feel his body tremble out of fear. Lovi had returned to English, and the only reason he could think of to explain the sudden change was he wanted everyone to remember just what he said to his husband as he murdered him. "Lovi, d-don't get angry with me...I just figured that he should learn how his Mama fell for his Padre!"

"Oh, wrong move!" America commented as if he was watching a baseball game. "I think he's out before he's even up to bat!"

"At least he got on deck," his little girl, Elizabeth, added from her mummy's lap.

The small boy sitting on Japan's lap to the left of her nodded his head. "Agreed."

"Ve~! How cute! Just like Japan agrees with America, Sano agrees with Lizzie!" Italy cooed, happy there was a distraction from the violent air that resided in the room. "What a coincidence, right, Ludwig?"

The German's eyes were still glued to Lovino and Antonio, his brow creased. There was going to be blood on the floor by the end of this; he was sure of it.

"Padre, I think I'm doing it wrong. She didn't get red in the face and swoon and melt in my arms like Mama does when you do it...Oh! And she also didn't say, 'Bastard, you know I love you', either!" he looked at his feet with shame. "I'm sorry I'm such a disappointment to you, Padre..."

His son had signed his death wish for him. Antonio would feel lucky if Romano killed him quickly and didn't drag it out.

Just as Spain shrunk back against a wall, Lovino moving in with his hands twitching and itching to get themselves a firm grip on his neck, Anja decided she had something to say about all this.

She walked over to Enrico, her nose high and her posture shining with confidence, she cocked her head to one side and looked him up and down with her blue eyes. Then she extended her hand to him.

Enrico blinked. "Whu?"

"You're like, really weird and all, but for some reason I totes like you. I like weird people. They're interesting," she professed, her hand still out-stretched to him. "And it felt really funny, but I kinda liked it, so if you wanna do that again, I'm not gonna stop you, but whatevs. I think we should go see Uncle Prussia because he's totes awesome, you know? And it's like, way to crowded with old people here. Seriously."

Now Lithuania looked like he wanted to kill himself. His face met his palm and he groaned into it. Anja's mother, on the other hand, was cheering her daughter on.

"You go girl! Work it!" Feliks sounded like a mother cheering on her Little Miss Sunshine pageant princess. "You know you own it!"

"Feliks..."

"What, Liet? You know my motto: 'If you've got it, flaunt it!'" And to embarrass the Baltic further she stood from her chair and placed a leg on it. Today she had decided to wear stiletto heels and a new robin's egg sundress that went down to her calves. Lithuania had silently cheered that morning, thinking his wife was finally growing up and ready to stop acting so scandalous.

As she pulled back her dress to expose her thighs, he smacked his head against the conference table.

_Obviously not._

Romano had paused from his attempted murder when he saw just what effect the girl had on his son.

Enrico was blushing.

Enrico...was blushing. _Blushing._

"He looks like a tomato..." Lovino breathed, and Spain couldn't help but chuckle and take his hand, kissing it once before letting them hang intertwined at their sides.

"He gets it from his madre."

Romano continued to watch, awe-struck, as his son shyly took Anja's hand and gave it a timid, light kiss, his eyes never straying from hers, gauging her reaction. When she merely smiled at him, his face turned even redder, and he pulled back, doing nothing but staring.

"Wow. Totes weird. But whatevs! Let's go!"

Enrico was dragged out, dumbstruck (or was it lovestruck?), to the room across the hall where Prussia was in charge of watching the children today should anyone wish to drop them off.

Though hardly anyone agreed to that when it was Prussia's turn, which explained why the majority of parents had decided to let their children stay in the conference room, no matter how bored and squirmy they became. Only Rosalina, who was used to being taken care of by her Uncle Gil, and a few other children were absent from their parent's laps.

Poland sighed and took her seat once more. "They grow up so fast...I was thinking a white and blue theme for the wedding, but red would be pretty awesome too. What do you think?"

When Lovino and Antonio realized that question was directed towards them, they looked at each other and blinked, as if seriously considering and talking it over silently amongst themselves.

"I was kidding," Poland rolled her eyes. "Nobody ever gets my sarcasm..."

"That's because your sarcasm is always half-serious," Lithuania supplied.

She shrugged. "Well, you never know what's going to happen."

~*~

"Dammit, Antonio!" he heard Lovi curse from upstairs, followed by the sound of his feet stomping around. There was a crash and then, "FUCK!"

Sighing and raising himself from the couch, he walked up the stairs and to their bedroom, where the string of Italian curses was coming from. "Lovi?" He lightly tapped on the door, only to have it jerked open violently, and a small, plastic stick smack him in the face.

"YOU GODDAMN BASTARD, ANTONIO!" Lovino seethed, spinning on his heel and plopping on the bed, his head in his hands.

"What now?" Spain murmured, picking up object that had fallen to floor after making contact with his face. The trinket was oddly familiar, and as he flipped it over, he realized why.

A tiny, pink plus sign stared back at him.

His face broke out into a grin immediately. "Lovi, that's--!" He looked at his little Italian's position on the bed and frowned. He slowly walked over and sat next to him, unsure whether or not comfort him with a hug. After a rather lengthy silence, Spain finally decided to say something. "Do you not want it?"

Romano sighed and wiped his brow. "It's not that I don't want another one...It's just...We _just_ had Alessandro and Alejandro! They're only two! And now to go through this again...I don't even know if my body can take it..."

Most countries were male. Everyone knew that. It was rare for a female country to spring up, and when they did, they were quickly claimed by males searching for a genuine female. 'Genuine female' was a term coined by China, as opposed to 'artificial female', which he had also named any male country that gave birth. All male countries could become artificial females, but only those who bottomed became pregnant. It worked basically the same way a genuine female would. The sex was similar, but upon the first impregnation, the anatomy of the male country would change, creating an artificial female. The male parts were still there, but now a womb had also been created to accommodate the baby. Eventually, when the baby was past breastfeeding, the artificial female would become a regular male once more.

As for Poland, who had managed to somehow change her sex, China hypothesized that because she felt so out of place as a male her body shaped itself into that of a genuine female. There were still many mysteries about countries, but China was looking into it and nobody else felt they had to bother as this was how countries had always been.

Still, genuine females were preferable in that their pregnancies and labor weren't so stressful and taxing on the body. Genuine females could give birth many times and still go strong, but it had recently been discovered that artificial females became progressively weaker the more children they had.

Romano's own stupid brother was proof of that. He'd almost killed Germany after Feliciano narrowly dodged Death's hand giving birth to Katja.

And that had only been Feliciano's second time giving birth.

This would mark Romano's fourth. He had managed the third, being stronger than his younger brother, but knew his limits.

This baby would be the death of him.

"But we know early..." Spain whispered. "We can make sure that everything is set. That the best doctors are there with the best equipment and everything and anything should something go wrong..."

Silence.

"You...You wouldn't...You wouldn't kill it, would you, Lovi?" Spain sounded horrified and heartbroken at the thought.

Romano sighed. "Bastard! Of course not! But...But I just...We might not...One of us or both of us might not make it..."

"I told you! We're going to get everything ready beforehand! We'll be prepared! Don't even talk like that, Lovi! Don't even--!"

"Antonio, shut up," Romano whispered. He didn't even have the will to be angry with the idiot now. "I just want you to be aware. And I want to tell you now, before we have to choose on the spot, with my possibly being unconscious."

Spain stared at him. Lovino looked grim and serious and he knew whatever he was about to say he should take to heart.

"If...Something _does _go wrong," and he waited to see if Spain would interject before continuing, "I want you to pick her. If it comes down to me or the baby, choose the baby. I don't care what happens to me as long as she's safe. I may not be the best mama, but I _would_ die for my children...And don't you say that's not going to happen, because it _might._ And if it does, that's what I want. I would never be able to live if...If I knew one of my babies...Our only daughter...If she died..."

Lovino remembered his brother in the hospital. How they had found the umbilical cord wrapped tightly around her neck, her body feet first on top of that. And how _tiny _she was when she came into the world. How there was no cry. No sound coming from her at all.

But what he remembered most of all was Feliciano's face when they took her away, the panic evident on the doctor's face and the air changing from that of elation to pure fear.

"W-where is she...Wh-where are they taking her? Ludwig, wh-what's wrong?"

The kraut had said nothing, and just stared into space as if someone had punched him in the gut.

"Il mio bambino!" he sobbed when they finally told him. "That's my baby! My baby girl!"

"Feliciano, sh..." Ludwig reached down to wrap his arms around his brother, who had started to flail, determined to unhook himself from the wires and tubes and run after his newborn they had taken away.

"No! NO! That's my baby! That's my baby, Ludwig, OUR BABY!" he cried harder and started to punch and kick everyone furiously, despite being extremely weak himself. "My baby...My poor baby...Mama loves you so, so much..."

Eventually he gave up and bawled for his child that couldn't.

Lovino shuddered. He didn't want to go through that. And he definitely didn't want Spain to go through it either.

"Lovi..."

By the sound of his voice and the way he reached for his hand and squeezed it in his own, Antonio remembered too.

~*~

"Mama! Padre y me trajo un montón de tomates deliciosa!"

It amazes Romano just how beautiful she is. She's a true Italian beauty, which Spain never fails to point out. The thing that makes her even more gorgeous, in Lovino's eyes, is her skin that's just a shade darker than his own. She obviously inherited it from her father and earned it from her days spent picking out tomatoes with him in his fields.

Her long, brown hair is tied in two pigtails, braided on some days and just left to hang on others. But no matter what, those amber eyes of hers sparkle, and it's the feature that both mama and daughter alike have decided is her best.

But Lovino thinks she's perfect and the most beautiful little girl in the entire world, so he cannot pick just one aspect of hers that's his favorite.

And it extends beyond her outer appearance, because Lumina is just as beautiful on the inside.

"Ah, si?" he bends down to her level as she comes rushing in.

Lumina runs straight into her mama's arms, hugging him for a quick second. Romano kisses his youngest child's cheeks in greeting, and she giggles.

Spain walks in a moment later, his arms full of said tomatoes. "The boys helped too, but then Enrico got a call from Rosie and Sano and went to meet them. Nicholas ran off after Alejandro and Alessandro after they took off with the other basket. Not sure when they'll get back."

"Well, at least we have one good one."

"Si! The tomatoes Padre and I picked out are the best!" Lumina nodded her head fervently.

"I was actually talking about out children. Four mistakes and one angel," Romano replied, running a hand through a ponytail. "Your brothers are too much like your padre."

"Lovi!"

"What?" he snorts. "It's the truth, bastard."

Antonio hums in the back of his throat, as if thinking about something. He never questioned how Romano knew they were having a girl, but he was glad he was right. She really was a princess in a house full of boys. Romano had been scared all throughout the pregnancy. It was as if they were constantly walking on eggshells, and when Romano finally went into labor, all hell seemed to break loose.

"Antonio, I'm scared," he had whispered to him before the contractions even started to hurt. The tears that had welled in his eyes made Spain want to murder someone, but he wasn't sure who. Probably himself, since this was mostly his fault besides Lovino's. "R-remember..."

But they hadn't had to make that decision. The labor was certainly the longest and most painful Lovino had ever experienced, but they both made it out okay. Exhausted. _But okay._

Lumina kicked her feet back and forth at the table, munching on a tomato. When she noticed her padre watching her, she smiled and offered him some.

"Gracias, bonita!" he smiled and took a bite before handing it back to her.

"Mama, do you want some?"

"No, that's okay. You enjoy it. I've got to go see your uncle, anyway..." Romano sighed at the thought.

"Oh, you're going to Feliciano's?" Spain asked, surprise in his voice. "What's going on?"

"Don't know. That moron just called me and started screaming in my ear about good news," Lovino answered, turning back to the sink where he was rinsing the tomatoes. He mumbled under his breath, "Damn idiot couldn't just _tell_ me what was so great...Has to make me go to the damn kraut's house..."

"I'm guessing I'm in charge?" Antonio teased.

"Feh! As if!" Romano smirked. "I'm leaving Lumina in charge! God knows she's the only one besides me who can keep you in line!"

Spain smiled despite his words. "Lovi, I love you."

His cheeks were suddenly much redder than they had been two seconds ago.

_'Cute,_' Spain thought to himself, a smirk sneaking out from his smile.

"Yeah, yeah! I love you too!" he said quickly before getting his coat, the blush still staining his features.

The winter season was upon them. This was probably the last day they'd bring home tomatoes from their own personal fields for awhile. It was late October, after all. The only way they'd managed to keep their tomatoes growing this long was through hard work and greenhouses with heat.

"Have fun!" Antonio called from the window as Romano walked towards the car, fiddling with his keys.

He ignored him and drove away.

~*~

"Padre, what's wrong with Mama?" Lumina asked as they all sat to eat dinner together.

None of her brother's knew why Mama looked like he had seen a ghost. When he came home, he looked ready to shout. But then he grew pale and quiet and didn't say anything. Spain was worried and had tried to ask what was wrong, but Lovino only stared at him and couldn't manage to get words to come out, though he tried and had once managed to make a squeaking sound.

Now it looked like he was going in circles. A look of anger, then fear. And again. Anger, fear. Anger, fear. Back and forth.

"I don't know, Lumina. But don't worry. I'll find out."

~*~

"You _think _he would have learned his lesson!" Romano shouted, and Antonio knew that the kids were probably all huddled outside their door, trying to find out just what was wrong with their mama.

"Lovi, calm down! Does Germany know?"

"Of course not!" he screeched. "He wants it to be a_--_! A--! A _surprise!"_

The face he made was one of disgust.

"When does he plan on telling him?"

"Christmas Eve, of all the days! Said it's going to be his Christmas present to the bastard! Well, here's what I think of that idea!" South Italy crudely spit into the trash can in the room.

"Lovino!" Spain chastised him. "He's your brother!"

"And he needs to learn how to either grow a brain or keep his legs closed!"

Spain sighed.

Feliciano was pregnant again.


	4. Germany & Italy's Twins: MatthiasKatja

Whew! I'm so sorry this is so late, you guys! I really am! I kept saying I had to write it, but I just never found the time! Well, now I have. And, as a special thank you for being so patient, it's about double the length of a normal chapter!

Tell me in a review if you guys would like some USUK or PrussiaNJ in the next chapter. They're the two I'm kicking around. It would make more sense to go PrussiaNJ, but I promised some USUK soon so...

Also, this is a bit of a flashback chapter. If you guys remember in Spain and Romano's, Lovi mentioned Feli falling apart. This is basically all about that.

Thanks for being so patient with me! Hopefully I'll be able to update sooner next time! I love you all~!

Also, I'm aware that some of you will hate my NJ OC. Well....I WAS going to have him with Ukraine, but...She kinda annoys me. I just didn't see the appeal of that couple. No fun to write. Then I remembered my state-tan NJ...I'm doing a 50 states-tan project, and NJ was the first one I made. As my first non-child OC for Hetalia, I decided she deserved the spot of Prussia's wife, beating out New York and Delware and California for it. So yeah! Sorry about that, but that's how it goes! Please don't treat her TOO harshly!

Note: Probably awful typos. I was trying to get it out to you guys, so I didn't really proofread...Sorry! Oh, and ~*~ equals a page break. Sorry. The stupid thing wouldn't and then...Gah! Just technical difficulties!

* * *

"Now, Rosie, if you get homesick, you call me and I'll come right over there and pick you up!" Ludwig explained to his daughter, crouching down to her level so he could grab her hand and look up into those ice blue eyes that were the same as his own.

Feliciano came bouncing down the walk with a duffel bag, keys jangling along with every little hop. "You worry too much, Ludwig! She'll be fine!"

"Feliciano..." Germany started, taking the keys from him.

"Mama's right, Vati," Rosalina interjected. "It's only across the Atlantic Ocean!"

The German sighed. He hated how she said it as if it was the same as across the street, but he supposed that was to be expected of a child of nations. As they piled into the BMW, he sighed once more. It wasn't like it was Rosalina's first sleepover, but it was the farthest away she'd ever been from home without either of her parents. He couldn't help but worry about his baby girl.

Feliciano placed a hand on his thigh, as if telling him to calm down a bit. His knuckles relaxed on the wheel to the point where they were no longer white, and, satisfied, the Italian withdrew.

The auburn-haired man turned around in his seat to flash a smile at Rosalina. It only widened as he watched her feet kick back and forth with excitement, her face peaceful as it stared curiously out the window. The view to the airport wasn't exactly scenic, but she had that childish knack for finding everything to be interesting. It was adorable, and he was pleased to say that was something she inherited from him.

He reached a hand back and his daughter noticed, beaming, and slipped her own hand into his. The Italian gave it a light squeeze and she reciprocated it. Eventually Feliciano returned to sitting properly. Ludwig, who noticed the little display, couldn't help but smile.

_'I definitely wouldn't mind another one...'_

_~*~_

The former Vargas had requested that Rosie fly via the Italian airlines, as he had to pop in on Romano. Ludwig, confused as to what it was Feliciano needed from his brother, hesitantly agreed. It was a longer drive, but he figured it would give their daughter extra time to back out if she suddenly changed her mind.

It wasn't that he wanted her to, exactly. They needed her out of the house for a night alone, but still...He wished it had been someone in Europe she could stay with instead of Arthur, Alfred, and their daughter Elizabeth. It didn't help that Arthur was pregnant again and probably in a pissy mood. The twins really seemed to be taking a toll on him these days, and it didn't help that the American was so damn happy about it and wouldn't shut up.

He knew he shouldn't have let Feliciano plan where she would stay.

Elizabeth and Rosalina were good friends, so of course Feliciano had thought of ringing America up and requesting they watch her for a night. But Ludwig had a feeling Alfred hadn't even checked with Arthur before agreeing. He felt bad for the Brit. Pregnant with twins, a loud-mouth for a husband, taking care of their daughter, and now having to watch Rosie on top of that? The German felt they were imposing.

But it wasn't like they had many other options. There was no way he would let Gilbert watch Rosalina alone for more than five hours; not while Nina was away on state business, at least. And Elizabeta and Roderich's son Leo was a bore to Rosie. While she enjoyed painting, he preferred the piano or violin.

And God forbid they asked Romano and Antonio to take care of her for a night. That would lead to nothing but trouble. Lovino would curse them out and scream about how he better not touch his brother and then probably call them every thirty minutes or so, preventing a perfect night of solitude and romance.

Punching the car's phone button, a woman's voice sounded throughout the vehicle, asking him to state the number he wished to dial in German.

"Neun, sieben, drei, zwei, zwei, neun, zwei, vier, acht, sechs."

The automated voice repeated him. "Ist das richtig? Ja oder nein?"

"Ja."

"Okay!"

Feliciano stared at him. "Why are you calling Alfred and Arthur?"

"Just to make sure...No reason, really," he lied, before glancing in the review mirror to lock eyes with his daughter. "What number did I just dial in German?"

Rosie sighed. "Vati, I know my numbers! I'm seven!"

"Auf Englisch. You need to be able to speak it just as well as Italian or German," Ludwig reminded her. Feliciano said nothing. English was important, he was right, and he knew that the Germans were very particular about foreign languages. They were serious about speaking it fluently, as if it was native to them.

Roslina begrudgingly began to repeat the number in English. "Nine, seven, three, two, two, nine, two, four, eight, zickz."

"What was the last number?"

"Six," she corrected herself, and Ludwig nodded.

"Good! I know the last one was hard. Just keep practicing while you're at Elizabeth's house, okay?"

"Mhm."

Finally, someone picked up on the other line. "Yo! What's up, Germany?"

America. Not exactly who he had been hoping would answer. "I just have a question for England. Could you please hand him the phone?"

"He's in the bathroom right now. But maybe I can answer!"

"Oh, well...I was just wondering if it's okay for Rosalina to stay tonight..." he mumbled, already knowing the answer the American would give.

"Are you kidding?! We love that girl! She's like part of the family! Everything's fine! In fact, I went out and bought some hamburgers for the occasion! They're called Bubba Burgers, and they're shaped like Texas! Isn't that cool?!"

"Oh, well, I suppose..."

"Damn git...Who are you annoying now? Besides me, of course," a muffled voice in the background could be heard.

"Oh, Iggy! It's Germany! He wants to talk to you!"

There was a sound of movement before England's voice could clearly be heard. "Sorry. This whole peeing at random thing is really annoying, you know?"

Feliciano interjected before Ludwig could say anything. "Oh, yeah! I really hate that part! I remember when my water broke I just thought I peed myself by accident again! Haha! And then I tried to clean it up, but started to cry because I couldn't bend over and fix it, and then Ludwig came and told me my water broke and started freaking out and--!"

"I was just wondering if you're all right with Rosalina coming over tonight," Ludwig cut his wife off. "I understand that you must feel stressed so far into the pregnancy and with twins nonetheless."

"Eh? Oh, it's fine...Rosalina's a delightful child. She's a lovely little lady that never causes trouble. Really, you're doing me a favor. This way she keeps Elizabeth busy."

"Well, if you're sure...We're on our way to the airport now..."

"Yeah, yeah. The idiot will be there to pick her up."

"Okay then...I guess we'll leave it at that. Thank you."

"Bye."

Feliciano reached over and pressed the button to end the call for him. "I told you everything was fine! I had it all worked out!"

"Mm...I'm sorry, Feliciano. I just know how even you get quite cranky during pregnancy, so I just wanted to be cautious. We don't want to be rude."

"I always use my manners, Vati!"

"Si! She's a good girl, Ludwig!"

"I know."

The airport came into sight and the small family clambered out of the BMW. Germany strolled around to grab out Rosalina's night bag from the trunk. His eyes fell upon a dry cleaner's special concealing hanger, an outfit hidden in it. He was curious as to what it was, but a call from his Italian reminded him they had to put their daughter on a plane soon and they should get a move on.

They said their goodbyes at the gate, Feliciano kissing Rosalina on both cheeks and whispering comforting words in Italian. Ludwig hoisted her off her feet to give her one last large hug, kissing her forehead as he set her down and reminding her to mind her manners.

"I will! I always do!" she promised him, grabbing her small carry-on bag that had a Nintendo DS tucked away, courtesy of her Uncle Gilbert.

The couple watched her board the plane and stayed for the take-off, before Feliciano reminded the remaining blond that he had to visit his brother.

~*~

Feliciano gave him directions, which turned into a disaster. Though Ludwig followed them perfectly, the little Italian didn't really seem to know where he was going. They ended up going around in circles and backtracking until finally Feliciano screamed at him to stop abruptly.

"Why did you do that?!" the German couldn't help but shout as the car lurched violently. "Mein Gott, Feliciano, don't do that!"

Ludwig's hand was still placed firmly against the brunet's chest, effectively stopping his head from crashing into the dashboard. "Ve! Ludwig, it's Feliks!"

Germany wanted to scream. "You yelled bloody murder for that?!"

But North Italy wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention to him anymore, having hopped out of the vehicle to question Feliks about where his brother was. Ludwig cursed and undid his seatbelt, wrenching the car door open and moving towards the two.

"Oh, I just bought these totally cute shoes from him! You Italians really know your footwear! Romano is like, my fave person to shop with besides you, Feli! He has awesome taste and is brutally honest, which can be kinda mean, but like, way helpful!"

"Yeah, I know! Brother designed my wedding dress for me! It was so pretty too! He does a really great job!"

"What?!"

"Oh, Ludwig!" Feliciano said as if he had appeared out of nowhere. "I know where brother's shop is! We can go now!"

"Buh-bye!" Poland waved, continuing on her way, her shopping bag sporting the word 'Vargas' in bold, curvy lettering.

"Your brother made your wedding dress?" Ludwig never knew who had tailored it, but the last person he expected was Romano.

"Oh, yeah! Brother has a big shop for every occasion! He does wedding dresses, casual wear, shoes, and suits, and just about everything!"

"I never would have guessed..."

Feliciano shrugged. "Brother complains that I got all the talent from Grandpa Rome, but he's wrong. He has talent too! Most of my clothes are from his shop! Even my uniform!"

"So you're visiting him...Because?"

"I need him to fix a rip in my clothes, ve!"

"Oh..." It was obvious he was still dumbstruck by the very idea of Romano working with any sort of thing with delicate, nimble fingers.

The younger Vargas brother giggled. "You know what they say, Ludwig! Italian's love shoes and live in one of the fashion capitals of the world!"

~*~

Feliciano was back in the car fifteen minutes after entering his brother's shop, sporting a rather large bump on his head, but a happy smile nevertheless. The suspicious package in the back of their car turned out to be what he needed fixing, but the Italian refused to tell him what it was. He kept saying he would "find out soon enough" and it was "a surprise".

Ludwig wasn't a big fan of surprises.

~*~

The moment the couple returned home, Ludwig took the mysterious article of clothing from Feliciano's hands and tossed it onto the couch, grabbing the whining man's face so he could inspect the damage his brother had inflicted upon him.

"Does it hurt?" he asked him, fingers gently brushing over it.

Feliciano whined a bit, more concerned with the treatment of his clothing than his head. "Ludwiiiiiigggg! Careful! I just got it fixed from last time!"

"Why did Lovino hit you this time?" Germany ignored him.

"Ve...I told him that I wanted to look really good tonight because we planned on trying again...Then I said some things about how he should be happy because there will be another little cousin running around for his boys to play with. But he still looked angry, so I assured him you take really good care of me! I told him you were like my knight in shining armor! But that only seemed to make him madder...Brother really likes to headbutt people, you know?"

"You really have no idea how to read the atmosphere, do you?" Ludwig's brow creased and he frowned a bit.

The Italian shrugged. "It's just how I have felt ever since our childhood romance, Ludwig; back when you were Holy Roman Empire. You're my knight! You're really strong and really muscular! And you always protect me and make me feel warm and safe!"

Ludwig pat him on the head, eliciting a soft coo from his lover, before turning his neck to face the garment on the couch. "What is it?"

"I want to show you, ve~!" And before Germany could say anything, Italy took off with the unknown article, an impish and promising smile on his face.

Feliciano disappeared into the only bathroom on the main floor of their modest home, leaving Ludwig to his own devices for no more than four minutes. He was back moments later sporting a familiar maid's outfit in two shades of green. A white apron was tied around his waist and he wore a matching kerchief in his hair. Feliciano was still beautiful in his old attire and remained stunning in Ludwig's honest opinion. He certainly hadn't lost his attractiveness over the years.

Ludwig always lost his breath for a moment when he saw Feliciano wearing this outfit. The auburn-haired man knew just what effect it had on him. He couldn't help but feel nostalgic and romantic at the sight. The German figured Feliciano would be the same way had Germany kept his clothes from back then. Prussia had disposed of them a long time ago.

"Ta-dah~! What do you think?" And just to emphasize his question, he gave a little twirl, his green dress swirling around him just like it had when he went by Chibitalia.

"I think you're beautiful, Feliciano," the blond whispered, taking a step towards his love and cupping the Italian's face in his much larger hands. "No matter what, you always have been. All throughout time. And I've always loved you. No matter what you wore. I've loved you since the 900s..."

"And I'll love you more than anyone else in this world..." Italy finished for him, resting one of his own palms over Ludwig's hands. The words were like a holy prayer to the two. They were words from the start of their love and they were words that had been spoken at their wedding, and they were words that were spoken now.

Italy loved those words.

"Will my knight please see me in my chambers?" the flirtatious boy winked at the taller man and returned an air of playfulness to the room.

"Hm...As tempting as that is, it depends...Do I have to face a dragon?" Ludwig pulled his hands away from Italy's face only to pull him a bit closer by placing them on his slender hips instead.

Feliciano giggled. "No, I think you've faced enough dragons for a lifetime."

"_Really_, now?" Germany cocked an eyebrow and pressed his forehead to the cross-dresser's.

"Of course! Big Brother Romano, France, Spain, the Allies...You've saved me so many times and fought for me so often...You faced those dragons with so much courage for me. It allowed me to stay calm."

Ludwig understood that the dragons represented obstacles in their relationship they had to take care of first before they became exclusive. "I'd face a thousand more dragons for you."

"Haha! And knowing us, you'll make good on on that promise!"

"While I would, let's hope I don't have to."

"Ve~...So are we having sex or not?"

He ruined the moment and the mild role-playing, but sex was sex.

"I don't think that's ever been a question before."

~*~

"You almost ripped it..."

And that was how their pillow talk started.

"You're just as much to blame. You were eager too," he mumbled, kissing the Italian, snuggled tight against his chest, on his forehead. "Besides, if you weren't so sexy..."

Feliciano burst out laughing. "Ludwig!"

The normally strict, no nonsense man grinned cheekily. "What?"

Italy hummed and reached to run a hand along Germany's arm. "All that testosterone has gone to your head. That's not a very Germany-like thing to say!"

"Right now we aren't our countries. It's just Ludwig and Feliciano."

"Ludwig doesn't say things like that either."

"He does when he's drunk with the smell of sex and beautiful Italians that have no idea how to read the atmosphere."

Feliciano stopped his giggling to frown a bit. "You know, America and I are STILL looking for that book...It's a shame nobody seems to have kept their own copy! I'm surprised you don't have one I could borrow!"

Ludwig blinked and then stared at him for a moment.

"What?"

He shook his head. "Liebling, thank God you're adorable and everyone loves you."

The clueless man's face changed from confused to pleased upon hearing his words, flashing him a smile that could light up a whole nation and nuzzling into his chest with a happy sigh. Ludwig kissed the Italian once more atop his head, prompting him to look up and kiss him good night properly.

"I love you, Ludwig," he whispered, smiling.

Germany ran a hand through his love's hair. "I love you too."

"Do you think we did it? Is it too soon to take the test?" Feliciano asked, even though he knew the answer himself.

"We have to wait three days. I already bought the pregnancy tests."

"Tests?"

"Just to make sure one isn't a false positive or negative I bought three."

"Efficient!" his eyes lit up and he grinned at his husband. "I'm so glad I married a smart one!"

Ludwig shook his head but could feel himself laugh in his chest at the Italian's words. "Feliciano, go to sleep. You're going to need it."

"Good night, Ludwig."

He settled in his arms and soon the pair was fast asleep in an embrace, unknowingly having conceived not just one new life, but two.

~*~

"Okay, wait a second! Mama, if you love Matthias, why did you eat him?"

The girl frowned at her mother's inflated stomach, her face scrunched up in something akin to deep thought. Italy, lying down on his and Germany's bed, smiled and gently caressed his stomach. Ludwig was in the kitchen creating some ghastly, unreasonable concoction the Italian craved. The grating noise of the blender went off, along with what sounded like Germany trying his best to hold down his lunch.

"I didn't eat your baby brother, Rosie! He was put in Mama's belly to get bigger and stronger so that when he's ready he can come out and meet us all," Feliciano explained.

"But Mama..." Rosalina looked up from the baby bump to her mother's face just as her father entered the bedroom. "How did he _get _there?"

"Mm!" Italy held out a finger asking her to wait a moment as he took a sip of some cold, red-orange liquid. Germany visibly paled as his wife took one sip and then another, smacking his lips when he had finished. "Thanks, Ludwig! It's great! Just what I needed!"

"Surely, that can't be good for a developing fetus..." he mumbled.

"Fetus? Vati, his name is _Matthias_! MA-TEE-US!" she huffed and crossed her arms. "Vati, you have to remember a new baby's name! Otherwise you're gonna get all mixed up with other babies and might lose him, and Mama will get mad because Mama remembers his name and loves him very much already, even if we can't see him or anything. Then Matthias will start to cry because he'll see that you _never_ forget my name or anything but he's not as important so he'll get _self-exteem issues!_

"Esteem, Rosalina. You mean self-esteem issues," Germany corrected. "And I do love your brother. A fetus is a word for a developing baby inside the mother's womb."

"Womb? Vati, Matthias is growing inside Mama's _stomach!_ Not a cocoon or whatever! That's for caterpillars!"

"You have to forgive Vati, bella. Sometimes he says silly things that nobody understands. But Vati is really smart, so listen to him anyway, okay?" Ludwig flashed Feliciano a small smile of appreciation and affection, but it was gone in an instant as soon as he raised the foul drink to his lips once more, another sickened look stealing over his face.

"I'm just happy die Prinzessen is looking forward to having a little brother," the German said, reaching out to brush away her bangs out of her eyes and tighten the baby-blue bow that sat atop her head, which drew back a few of her blond locks into a small ponytail, the rest cascading around and past her shoulders, down to her mid-back. "So pretty...Just like your mama..."

It was then Rosalina decided to make an announcement. "I'm going to have a baby, too!"

Germany chuckled darkly. "Oh, no you're _not!_"

But her mother laughed and urged her on. "Really, bella? And who are you going to have a bambino with?"

"Uhm...Well...I don't really know! Who do you think I should have a baby with, Vati? Hey, how are babies even made? Where do they come from?" she asked her father.

"Nobody. You're not allowed to have any children. Ever. In fact, you should become a sister in Mama's Vatican City!"

"Oh, Ludwig!" Feliciano smacked his thigh lightly. "Don't be like that! Don't you want grandchildren?"

"I think I'll leave that to our son. Nobody is going to touch my daughter. I'll personally see to that. Besides, weren't you crying just a few months ago about her growing up?" the German crossed his arms and frowned at his wife.

"Well, I don't want her to grow up, but it's going to happen...I want her to be happy. I may be home to Vatican City, but you know us Italians...We aren't prudes! As long as it isn't premarital, I'm perfectly fine with the idea of Rosie being a mama!"

Ludwig raised an eyebrow. "When did you become so rational?"

He giggled. "Mama's intuition!"

The blond rolled his eyes when he noticed the impatient look they were receiving from their daughter. "Mama...Vati..."

"Well, Rosie..." Germany started, trying to think of how he could explain this.

* * *

"And that's all you need to know about where babies come from," Germany finished, patting his daughter on the head.

"But what's the machine for?"

"I'll tell you when you're older."

She pouted. "So I should have a baby with someone who loves me a lot and who I love too..." It suddenly hit her. "I know! I'll have a baby with God!"

"See? She's _perfect_ for Vatican City! We should have named her Mary."

Now it was Feliciano's turn to roll his eyes. "You can't have a baby with God, bella. It needs to be with someone from Earth who is around your age."

"Oh...Well, then I guess...Sanosuke! I'll have a baby with Sanosuke!" she decided.

"I always knew no good would come from her play-dates with Japan and Greece's son..." Germany scowled.

"Oh, but they'd have _beautiful _babies, Ludwig!"

Now Germany was starting to get a little scared. "Can we move on? Let's focus on one pregnancy at a time, which will never be Rosalina's. How are you feeling, mein liebling?"

Italy smiled and rubbed circles on his stomach. "He's going to be strong. I can tell. He's going to be just like his papa."

They shared a special, knowing smile, Germany moving to join one of his own hands on his stomach.

They were broken out of their trance when they heard gagging noises coming from the six-year-old in the room.

"Mama, what _is _this?!" she stuck out her tongue, looking disgusted. The blended drink was in her hand.

"Ve! It's pasta, meatballs, and sauce all blended together with ice, vanilla ice-cream, and milk! A pasta smoothie! It's good isn't, it?"

By the looks on their faces, both blonds disagreed.

* * *

"Look, look, Ludwig!" Feliciano merrily chirped as the blond entered the kitchen.

Ludwig's eyes went to rest upon Feliciano's stomach, which was acting as a table at that moment. A light bowl of cereal had been put to rest on his baby bump, which was now large enough to be up to such a task. The Italian giggled as he reached with his spoon into the waiting breakfast food and brought it to his lips, chewing appreciatively. Ludwig couldn't help the small twitch of his lips into an upward motion at the sight of his happily pregnant spouse.

"Are you sure that's a wise thing to do? Don't put too much weight on him," Ludwig warned.

Feliciano shrugged. "It's fine! It's no more pressure than when we have sex."

Ludwig, even after all their years of marriage and time spent together before that, could not help but blush at his casual way of saying such a thing. But to be honest, it wouldn't have mattered how he said it. Whenever the "innocent" (if he could still be called that considering the things he did to him...) man mentioned their escapades in the bedroom it immediately elicited a blush from the German if he wasn't expecting it.

The blond man coughed and took his seat at the kitchen table, snatching up the German newspaper that was waiting for him. He quickly flipped to the politics section and nodded in placation of his new boss's latest decisions. He really was quite fond of her. She was a thousand times better than his crazy boss back in WWII.

But Feliciano didn't want to just watch Ludwig read the boring paper all day, and slunk right up beside him, arms coming to rest around the man's shoulders in an embrace. "Ludwig, speaking of sex...I really enjoyed last night. Again. You know, your sex drive seems to increase ten fold whenever I'm pregnant...Do you have a thing for fat people?"

"I—no! I just..." he turned in his seat to get a look at the smirking Italian. "You're not even fat, you're just pregnant! And I...I find that...sexy..."

"Why?"

"Well...You're carrying our child and it's something we made and...And I don't know, but you just seem...You're so..." He gave a pleasant shudder as Feliciano kissed his neck. "I mean, you're beautiful all the time, but something is just...It just intensifies it and I can't..."

He was silenced as Feliciano sighed dreamily and kissed his lips.

"R-rosie..." Ludwig weakly uttered as they broke apart, his lover never stopping and continuing to nuzzle his neck and place soft kisses there, with a nip or two in between.

"She's with Alicia," he murmured, starting to undo the buttons of the German's green, button-down shirt. "We're all alone..."

Ludwig gave a predatory growl and Feliciano moaned softly into his mouth as they kissed again. They switched from earlier, Ludwig now on the offensive, taking claim of Feliciano's neck. After awhile, however, Feliciano started to feel strange and tried to get his husband's attention.

"Ludwig..."

He didn't even pause.

"Ludwig!" Feliciano cried, more urgently. "Ludwig, I-I'm wet!"

There was a chuckle from the blond as he pulled away from his neck to kiss his lips. "So soon? Not that I'm complaining..."

"Wha--? No, Ludwig! I-I think my water just broke!"

That immediately stopped him in his tracks. Blue eyes met brown for a split second before Ludwig detached himself from the auburn-haired man's embrace and quickly dashed for the phone, dialing Prussia's number.

"East, we'll meet you and Nina at the hospital. If Rosie and Alicia want to come, make sure they have something to entertain themselves with."

He hung up without even waiting for a reply.

"Remember to call Romano, too!"

"...Do I have to?"

Feliciano shot him a look that clearly said, "Yes, you have to, and this is a face that I could have only learned to pull off by becoming a wife and a mother!"

Ludwig sighed and sent Romano a text. He didn't have time to deal with the southern Italian's screams, threats, and curses. After that he quickly grabbed the briefcase waiting at the door and shepherded the gentler Italian brother into the car, making a mental note to clean the floor when they returned home.

~*~

"That was fast!" Feliciano commented as he was ushered into a wheel chair, a nurse pushing him towards the waiting rooms before he would be moved to the delivery room. Ludwig walked alongside him, nodding in agreement, fiddling with his army-brand stopwatch.

"Yes, we did 3.7 seconds better than last time. I mapped out the quickest route to the hospital perfectly..." North Italy looked up at him with a tiny little grin. "What?"

"Nothing, nothing! You're just so funny sometimes, Ludwig! I'm fine. Matthias is fine. My contractions are so far apart and they don't even hurt yet! They just feel weird..."

"It never hurts to be cautious. China waited around at home for awhile because he assumed that they wouldn't come so quickly and what happened? He had to deliver three triplets all by himself. Thank God he's been around so long that he knew what to do. Still, we can't let something like that happen to us," Germany lectured.

Feliciano hummed to himself, which Ludwig knew well by now that it meant he had heard him but was brushing him off. He sighed.

"Sometimes, Feliciano, sometimes..." he shook his head.

"Sometimes what, West?" a familiar voice said.

Ludwig looked up and found his brother lounging across two of the chairs placed outside the delivery rooms as if he were a king. One leg was resting over the chair his body wasn't occupying, its twin on the floor in almost a normal manner. His arm was flopped over the back of the chair, the other wrapped around his wife's shoulders, squeezing and trying to tickle her every now and then just because he was bored and had nothing better to do.

Said wife was flipping through a magazine, trying to ignore him, but failing quite miserably. He could see how her eyes were scrunched together trying to block him out and just read the article, an eyebrow giving a twitch every now and then.

"Vati!" The gleeful holler got his attention, coming from none other than the sister-to-be herself. Rosalina was kicking her legs back and forth with childish fervor (much like how Feliciano still did), watching her elder cousin play some sort of video game with mild interest.

Hopping up from her seat, she flew to her parents. "Vati, Mama! I'm gonna be a big sister soon, right? Right?"

"Mm, that's right! And I'm going to be a mama soon!"

"You already are, Feliciano," Ludwig reminded him.

"Ve, but of TWO people! Soon we'll be saying we have two kids instead of one! That's so exciting!"

"Wonderful, but try not to overexert yourself, okay?" Ludwig's eyes turned to Gilbert, scrunched up in confusion. "How did you get here before us? You live the same distance away and you should have left later..."

"It's because I'm awesome!" Prussia replied as if that was explanation enough.

Nina shrugged. "No idea. We left around the same time you probably did, if only a minute later. And I drove, so it's not like Gilbert was speeding or anything."

"Ve, Ludwig, we need to go now..." Feliciano reminded the agitated blond. "It doesn't matter if they got here fi--"

"Hey, what the hell took you guys so long? We've been here for ten minutes already and we live farther away than you! Damn potato-bastard...Doesn't even know how to drive or light a fire under his ass when my stupid brother's going to give birth!"

Romano appeared with Spain on his tail, their own children nowhere in sight. They appeared to be coming from the vending machines settled around the corner near the bathrooms, if Antonio popping Skittles wasn't enough indication.

"No! I timed this perfectly!" Ludwig looked at his watch again. "How could everyone beat us?!"

"Ludwig, let it _go,"_ Feliciano's voice was stern as he tugged on his husband's shirt, throwing a frown at him. "I'm going to give birth soon. This is no time for you to be anal about something as stupid as time."

"You tell him, fratello!" Romano cheered as Prussia cackled with laughter.

"Yeah, West! Listen to your little wifey!"

Ludwig sighed and Spain flashed him a knowing glance. "I see that even in this stage little Feli is still experiencing those hormones...Dios Mio, Ludwig...I don't know how you do it..."

"Oh, no. I'd much rather have Feliciano than Romano...I don't know how you put up with _that_. He's always moody, but a pregnant Romano..." Germany shuddered and Feliciano again tugged at his shirt impatiently.

"I can come too, right?" Rosie asked as her mother started to be pushed away from the waiting room and into a more private one.

"Si, but only for a little while," Feliciano smiled softly at her. "When Mama tells you to leave you have to leave, okay?"

"Okay. I'll be good. Promise!"

~*~

The small family left the waiting area, leaving their relatives to wait for further news brought to them by Germany when he returned with Rosalina. He would pop back out periodically afterward to assure a nervous Lovino that everything was all right with his brother.

Gilbert Beilschmidt, bored that his own two girls were not doing anything remotely entertaining to keep him occupied, decided that annoying the hell out of them would be his best option.

"So, my darling dearest! When are we having another kid?" Gilbert grinned and pulled her closer to him.

"Whenever you want, pudding pop," she said without any emotion, ignoring him yet playing along at the same time by adding on a ridiculous nickname.

Prussia pushed on. "No, seriously! I think we're ready...I don't know what it is...Being here, with you, Feli giving birth...It's all so magically awesome! I think we should have another."

"Okay."

"Nina, sweetie! A real answer! I'm being serious, here!"

Nina J. Jones looked up from her magazine, turning to smile at her husband. "I know. I am too. I've been thinking about it as well and I agree. We're ready."

Gilbert stared at her. ".......Seriously?"

She nodded. "Seriously."

He didn't say anything.

"Gilbert?"

"What are you doing?" he stood up and glared at her. "You're supposed to be freaking out! And hitting me! And telling me I'm stupid and I should just—just die or something! W-we're not ready to have another kid! Hell, I can hardly be a vater to Alicia! How the hell would I manage with another one?! I wouldn't, that's what! Y-you know I suck at being a parent so w-why--?!"

The way she turned her face to hide her snickering gave her away.

"You...you..."

"What is it, 'darling dearest'? Didn't you want someone to freak out and have their voice go all high and squeaky?" she smirked.

"Yeah, you!" he muttered, slumping back into his seat, looking quite put-out. "I really thought that would have worked...

"I've been married to you for over 7 years, Gil. You've trained me and now you've met your match."

"Damn it...That's so not awesome..."

"Dad, quit being such a child," Alicia didn't even look up from her game. "This is a hospital. Children are being brought into the world. The first thing they hear shouldn't be your annoying screaming."

Gilbert pouted at his eight-year-old daughter. "You know, sometimes I think your uncle and your mother went behind my back. You act just like him. Then again, your uncle's a fag, sooooo...Well, he could have been experimenting..."

"Explain my white hair if you think that's true. As much as I hate to admit it, I'm fifty percent you," Alicia continued to play her game.

"Quit calling me 'dad'! I'm your vati! You use English for mom, and German for me. Cuz German is WAAAAY more awesome than English!" Gilbert crossed his arms and nodded.

The white-haired girl rolled her eyes. "You're so immature."

"And you're overly mature. Cut the teenage gig and save it for later."

"Don't start arguing, you two. Like Alicia said, children are being brought into this world and the first thing they hear shouldn't be your bickering. And Alicia, it wouldn't hurt for you to be a bit nicer to your father. He loves you very much," New Jersey frowned at the albino pair.

New Jersey, a.k.a. Nina J. Jones, was one of Alfred's fifty states. All countries had states that were personified like they were, but they were hardly paid any mind. They were merely informants looking over different pieces of land for their boss, which was whichever country they belonged to. They were normally not thought of as much by anybody, however, Alfred had come to view his states like siblings rather than messengers. Some deduced it was the reason he fared so well. He had such a close relationship with all his states, and New Jersey was no exception.

America was Nina's big brother, and she adored him, even if she was often overlooked in favor of her elder sister New York. Nina not only loved America; she loved England as well. England was like another big brother, having settled her in the early years of her life. It was on a visit to England's place (he loved her, for she was one of the few territories he had ever held that still liked him) that she realized just how poorly her big brother was viewed by the rest of the world. Or, as England put it, she "finally realized that that oaf cannot possibly maintain a stable relationship with anyone for longer than five minutes because he fails to read the atmosphere!"

Curious of other countries and longing to see where many of her people had come from, she visited other parts of the world. Most of the time she was turned away because, after all, who cares about one tiny state of Alfred's? Well, finally, Feliciano did. He eagerly invited her to his house and the two bonded over pizza, Nina explaining that there were tons of Italian places all over New Jersey.

After that, she became a regular at the Italian's residence, and it wasn't long before she was introduced to Romano, Ludwig, Antonio, and Gilbert. At first neither Gilbert or Nina had been impressed with each other. But one day, while Nina was out looking for Feliciano and had decided to try Germany's house, Gilbert was there and informed her that they had left for a date. Seeing her crestfallen face, he invited her in for a beer (which she declined, being underage in her own country) and to play some video games. Not having anything better to do, she accepted, and they became friends.

At least, that's how New Jersey described their beginning. The way their romantic relationship began...Now that was a story that would need a bit of time to tell.

Nina still didn't receive much attention (what with Gilbert being only half a country that put all the responsibility on his brother and considered by many an ex-nation) but it hardly bothered her. She didn't really accomplish her goal of making international relations better, but she had come to accept that it was all too much bigger than herself to tackle alone. It was up to Alfred. And with Arthur helping him, she was sure he'd pull through.

Right as Gilbert was about to say something Rosie and Ludwig returned. That didn't stop his daughter.

"Sometimes I wish you guys would just get a divorce," Alicia muttered, and the room went quiet.

"Alicia..." her mother looked hurt by her words and Gilbert didn't look any happier.

"You should be happy your parents love each other," Ludwig supplied after awhile of silence. "Some couples don't, and it's a sad thing for their children. Those are very hurtful words for you to say to your parents."

"It's got nothing to do with them loving each other. It's got everything to do with them loving me," Alicia sniffed, got up from her chair, and made her way to the restrooms.

Nina looked ready to cry and Gilbert's emotions were rapidly going back and forth between anger and hurt.

Rosalina frowned and whispered to her father, "Vati...I know you and Mama love me, right?"

"Of course we do," he whispered back, picking her up and holding her on his hip, her head falling to rest on his shoulder. "And we love each other very much, too. There's nothing you need to worry about."

"You're not going to...get a divorce?" he could feel her tremble against him, tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

"Don't you even think that we would for a second. Nothing could ever make me leave your mother. Nothing could ever tear us apart."

Little did Ludwig know that those words would start to be tested less than twenty-four hours.

~*~

"You did it...Look at him, he's perfect..."

"Oh...Oh...Oh my...Is he? Is he okay?" Feliciano could hardly breathe and tried to look through heavily lidded eyes at his newborn.

"He's going to be fine. But it's his twin we're worried about..."

Ludwig froze. "Twin? As in...more than one? As in...another baby?"

The doctor paused and looked up at him with wide eyes. "Yes...Twins normally means more than one baby..."

"W-we only ordered one!" Feliciano cried, exhausted from pushing yet feeling no relief.

"You didn't know you were having twins?!" the doctor exclaimed, looking back and forth between the pair.

"Oh mein Gott..." Ludwig turned to Feliciano. "I let you go to one sonogram alone and you can't remember we're having twins?!"

"D-don't yell at me, Ludwig! I-I would have remembered! Th-they never said—!"

"Well, by the looks of things, it's not his fault..."

"What?" Ludwig snapped around to face the man poking around Feliciano's make-shift uterus.

"It's very tiny," the doctor replied, sighing. "Probably won't survive. It's fully formed, but...It's weak. There was probably an imbalance and the other twin received most of the nutrition. It can happen when one fetus develops faster than the other. It's just the way some things are. Not much you could've done. The technicians probably didn't even pick up on it because it's so small."

"Then...Then are you saying...Are you telling me one of our children is about to die?" Ludwig glared at the man.

"Sir, we'll do everything we can, but the probability of it even born alive is unlikely. It looks like a stillborn."

"I don't care, dammit! Just make sure everything turns out okay in the end!" Ludwig gave a few curses in German. "Feli, you have to push again."

"No, no, Ludwig, I can't!" he cried, the tears dribbling down his cheeks. "I'm too tired! I can't! I'm weak and I can't do it—it hurts so bad, Ludwig! Please please please just do it for me please!"

"Liebling, I would if I could, but you have to...Okay? Look how lucky we are! We're going to have another baby along with Matthias. You just have to push and be strong. Please, Feli, be strong." He placed a kiss on the brunette's damp temple, ignoring the taste of sweat on his lips.

"You're going to need to start now if you want to have any hopes of it coming out alive."

"Okay, Feli...One, two, three!"

Feliciano screamed.

"It's gotta be harder than that. That didn't do anything."

"Ludwiiiiig!" Feliciano moaned in agony.

"C'mon, Feliciano. C'mon! You can do it! Big push! One, two, three!"

"That's good, that's goo—Shit!"

"What?! What's wrong?!"

"Well, we now know it's a she, but she's placed all wrong...You have to hurry and push again now or she'll suffocate."

"NOW! One, two, three!"

"One more time!"

"One, two, three!"

Feliciano collapsed and let go of Ludwig's hand.

Ludwig waited for the cry that would echo his son's from earlier, telling of new life and bringing joy and wonder to him and Feliciano. He watched as the doctor cut the cord wrapped tightly around his daughter's throat, lifting the infant up to inspect it.

There was no reassuring cry.

Feliciano, even in his dazed and exhausted state, managed to notice and felt the atmosphere of the room shift. Ludwig's veins filled with a sense of panic and despair.

"W-what's wrong, Ludwig?"

He couldn't bring himself to answer as he watched a team of obstetricians and nurses crowd around his baby girl. His tiny, tiny, tiny baby girl. God, she was so small...So fragile...

So breakable.

A nurse took her away, another coming back with Matthias and placing him in his mother's arms.

Ludwig couldn't bring his voice to work to ask where they were taking her. He was too afraid of the answer. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he could hear Feliciano crying.

He couldn't even bring himself to comfort the man he loved.

"Did you kill her?" Feliciano whispered, stroking his son's lips, trying to aim his tears away from the baby's face. "I could never believe that you could. Not you, who is so innocent and so beautiful and so perfect...It's all my fault...If only I were smarter...If only I had paid attention--! My fault...All my fault..."

Those were the only words Feliciano would say for the next month.

~*~

Ludwig took Rosie and Matthias to visit her every day in the hospital. She would smile and wave at the baby sleeping in the incubator, asking all sorts of questions and talking about what they would do together when she could finally come home. Ludwig would answer her questions and nod at her words, flashing her a smile every now and then to reassure her even if it did not reassure himself.

"And then Mama will smile again!" Rosie finished her incessant chatter as she always did, her father only half-listening as he stared at his child still on the verge of death. "Then we can all go back to being a happy family..."

"_And then Mama will smile again!" _her words rung in his ears.

_'Feliciano...'_

"_Then we can all go back to being a happy family..."_

_'There's still hope, Feliciano.'_

"_And then Mama will smile again!"_

_'Even if she doesn't make it...'_

"_Then we can all go back to being a happy family..."_

_'We still have them to live for.'_

Ludwig had yet to cry even though it felt like his whole world was breaking. Katja F. Beilschmidt was still in critical condition. She wouldn't be allowed to leave the hospital for another two months if she managed to pull through. As for Feliciano...

He stopped eating. He stopped painting. He stopped cooking. He stopped laughing. He stopped smiling. He stopped crying. He stopped caring.

_'He stopped living.'_

_~*~_

It was what had become a typical night for the Beilschmidt family. Rosalina had been tucked into bed by just her father, her mother having retired hours ago, if he had even gotten out of bed that day. Matthias had been in his crib for almost an hour now, also all of Ludwig's doing.

He made his way to his own room after that, climbing into his side of the bed. Feliciano did not turn to face him. Ludwig felt like there was something missing without the Italian happily wrapped in his arms during the night, but this was how it had been ever since that day. Feliciano wouldn't even look at him.

But what finally made Ludwig snap was what happened in the middle of the night.

Ludwig awoke to the sound of crying, obviously that of an infant's, and noticed that Feliciano was not in bed. That alone was enough reason to abandon the covers and spring into action. A part of him hoped that perhaps Feliciano had left to comfort their son; that maybe he was recovering.

What he saw instead sickened him.

Feliciano stood over Matthias' crib, staring down at the crying child. He made no move to pick him up or comfort him at all. He just stood and watched as the babe cried out for attention, for warmth, for _love_.

Ludwig had enough.

He punched Feliciano square in the jaw with all his might.

He stumbled and fell, but didn't even utter a sound.

"You--! You--!" Ludwig hissed, unable to get the words out as he reached for his son. "I cannot believe you! How could you just stand there and—and just _watch_ him cry?! What...What kind of mother does that to their child?! What kind of _person _does that to _any _child?!"

Feliciano said nothing, not even when Rosalina appeared, frightened and on the verge of tears.

"Rosie, I want you to call Nina. Tell her to come get you and Matthias. Stay the rest of the night at their house, okay?"

"Vati, what's wro--"

"Rosalina, just listen to me!" he hadn't meant to yell, but he no longer had patience. Feliciano had drained it all.

She quickly fled with her brother clutched carefully in her arms, and as soon as she was gone Ludwig returned his attention to the man on the floor. He glared down at him.

"You think that this is easy for me? You think you're the only one hurting? She's my daughter too, Feliciano!"

He said nothing.

"God damn it...God damn it! Feliciano! It's not like she's dead! She's going to come home eventually!"

"Complications...It's all my fault. Even if she does live, I've ruined her life..." he whispered, avoiding looking at the blond.

"You don't know that...Don't even say that! Feliciano...Feliciano, God...Look at us! Look at what's happening to the family you and I have made! Rosie is scared every night she goes to bed! She thinks you're going to kill yourself, and she's not the only one! She thinks we're going to split up and...And...And I don't know if that's what you might want or...Or...God! I'm trying to hold everything together and I just...I just--! Can't...And..."

Feliciano finally looked up once he heard the muffled sobs.

"I just...I can't...I can't do it alone, Feli...I-I--! I love you so much b-but...But I love Rosie and Matthias and Katja too and if you can't...If you can't stop this...Then we have to go...Because even though I love you and I would stay, if they have to go on living in this house afraid and depressed then...Then I have to do what's right for them..." he took a deep, shuddering breath. "I love you...I love you so much, Feliciano...Why can't you see that? This is tearing our family apart, but it doesn't have to...Please tell me everything is going to be okay..."

Feliciano felt tears well in eyes. He had not shed any in almost a month. Not since the day Matthias and Katja were born. He didn't know what to do. Ludwig...Ludwig was asking him for comfort...He could never remember something like this ever happening. Ludwig was strong! Ludwig wasn't like him, who had to rely on other people. He didn't need anyone! Not even him!

Or that's what he told himself.

Feliciano watched the man in front of him wipe at his eyes and try to steady his breathing. Ludwig had been so strong throughout this whole thing. He had seemed so...with it. Like nothing was wrong.

Feliciano realized with a sinking feeling that Ludwig was hurting just as much as he was. Guilt filled his entire being. He had nearly drowned himself in his self-pity. He had become so wrapped up with his mourning that he had not even realized that there were people who needed him. He had not realized that they too were hurting. And to make himself feel even more sick to his stomach, he had hated his husband for not showing his pain. He had been too blinded to realize he was masking it for his benefit. Ludwig always tried to be strong for him...Why could he never do the same?

Feliciano let out a wail as he tackled the other man. "LUDWIG! I'M SORRY!"

"W-what?" the blond was startled. He had not expected such an emotional response.

But Feliciano was crying freely now, blubbering out all his reasons. "And I just thought it was all my fault and that you didn't even care because we knew too late or that maybe you just hated me because I didn't know and it was your way of hurting me but I didn't realize you were just trying to protect me and make me feel better and keep our marriage alive and our family together and I just—just--! I love you so much and I don't want you to leave a—and--!"

"Feliciano, slow down!" he held him at arms length, but the Italian fought to wrap his arms around him again. He relented. "What's wrong?"

"Ludwig, I love you! Don't leave! I'm sorry for the way I've been acting! I was selfish and I felt so guilty and just...like shit, Ludwig! I've felt like shit!" The Italian cursed for what must have been the first time in his life. "Don't leave me...Don't take them away from me either...I...I think..."

Ludwig stared at him as the brunette looked deep in thought.

"I think I want to see Katja now. And...And I feel like I haven't seen Matthias yet either...And it's been ages since I've seen Rosie...I want...I want my family...I want my family to be happy again..."

Ludwig tilted his face to look up at him. "Then what are we waiting for?"

They kissed for the first time in weeks.

Feliciano smiled again.

~*~

Katja Francesca Beilschmidt was released from the hospital a month later. It came to light she had difficulty breathing, but that did not stop her from being a feisty brat with a sense of rebellion, her personality matching that of her Uncle Lovino's. She wanted nothing more than to be a singer, despite her weak lungs. Her parents never told her or her twin what happened when she was born or the tumultuous few months that followed. They weren't sure if they ever would.

"I'm leaving! I won't be back 'till ten!"

Ludwig didn't even turn around to face her in his comfy chair or look up from his newspaper as she came down the stairs. "Not in that outfit. Upstairs. March."

"Vati! C'mon! You didn't even look! It's fine!" she complained and stomped her foot.

"Your skirt is too short. Change. _Now."_

He heard her groan as she did as she was told and stomped up to her room.

"How do you do that?"

"Do what?" he asked, looking up from his paper and glancing at his son that was nearly his spitting image, save for his honey-colored eyes and tell-all hair curl.

"Nevermind..." Matthias shook his head and walked into the kitchen where Rosalina and Feliciano were making dinner.

"Is this okay?"

Ludwig turned around and looked at the brunette with the ice-blue peepers. He smiled. "Beautiful."

She rolled her eyes and grabbed her jacket, heading for the door as Ludwig turned back to his paper.

"The judges will love you. Just have confidence. Now that you're dressed appropriately, they'll see that you are more than those dime-store girls whose faces are caked with makeup. They'll see you're different from those that have no sense of self-respect wearing those mini-skirts and tight shirts. And on top of that, you've got everyone else beat by pure talent."

"How did you...?" she hadn't wanted anyone to know about her audition.

"You don't get all dressed up just to go to a friend's house."

"....I'm leaving."

"One last thing."

"What? I'm going to be late!"

He smiled at her. "I love you."

"Yeah, yeah! I love you too!"

And to think they once thought they would never hear those words from her lips...


	5. Prussia & New Jersey: Alicia

A/N: Well, it's been another long wait...Is anyone surprised? I mean, really? And would you be surprised that it's not USUK like I planned AGAIN? Probably not. But either way, I AM working on it. The ideas are coming for them! They just happened to not be coming along as quickly as my PruNJ ideas. But, as a teaser for all you USUK fans, here's the first two lines of the next chapter:

"Like most things, it started with America. And like most things that started with America, it would go down in history. It would come to be known in textbooks as the Great Marriage Race.

Not to be confused with the regular ol' Marriage Race, which probably involved a pregnant teenager, her boyfriend, and Vegas."

I'll leave you hanging for now and let your imaginations run wild. And if anyone wants to use that as a prompt for their own drabble or whatnot, feel free to think of it as a mini-contest. Send me the results! Haha!

And now, some angst...

* * *

Alicia Beilschmidt reached her breaking point.

"_What's wrong with her hair?"_

It was as white as snow and reached just to her mid-back.

"_Her eyes are weird! They're too light!"_

They were the palest shade of blue she had ever seen. Nobody, not even her uncle Ludwig, had such light blue eyes.

"_My mom told me she's an **albino.**_"

She had inherited it from her father, no doubt, though the geneticists pointed out that somewhere her mother also must have carried the gene.

"_Albino? She must also be retarded!"_

Alicia pretended not to hear it at first. Her parents had explained people would stare and whisper about her. They told her to just ignore it and they would soon see the real her as the year progressed.

"_My parents met hers at Back-To-School Night! Her mom is __**really**__ young!"_

Was she? Alicia had never asked why her mother looked so young in comparison to the other children's. She had never really taken notice.

"_Didn't you hear? Everyone knows her mother is a whore and her father is an alcoholic! I know because my sister told me, and she heard that from her friend who heard it from her parents."_

That had been something she wasn't quite so used to hearing. She had only been in the third grade when she started to hear the whispers about her parents. They came from every corner of the school; kids in her grade, upperclassmen, teachers...The words had left her dumbstruck. Sure, Uncle Ludwig would occasionally say something along the lines of her father being a drunkard, but both men would chuckle a bit when Prussia pointed out that he knocked back just as many.

"_Isn't he, like...Some sort of criminal?"_

Her father was an idiot. Everyone knew that. But a criminal? She didn't think so.

"_Yeah, like...A pedophile or whatever. Her mom wasn't legal."_

Pedophile? Legal? What did they mean by that? Alicia hadn't the faintest idea at first so she just ignored it. They were only rumors, after all.

"_You want to know the truth? He got her pregnant and that's why they had to get married."_

She knew the meaning of those words.

"_Shhh! She's right there!"_

Alicia had been sitting at her desk silently, not making eye contact with anyone. She learned at an early age she was not welcome among the "normal" children. Being quiet was her best defense against bullying. Attracting attention to herself was the last thing she needed, though she seemed to get it wherever she went.

"_She can't hear, stupid. She's an __**albino.**__ She's __**deaf**__."_

She could hear every word they said.

"_Are you sure?"_

She would just have to ignore them, as always.

"_It doesn't even matter if she isn't. She's retarded, remember? She can't do anything. Watch!"_

A girl in Alicia's grade walked over to her desk. She smiled at her, flicking her normal, dark hair over her shoulder. Alicia did not look up from the drawing of her family she had been working so hard on for the past week in art class. They had lunch now, with many of the children either playing outside or in the cafeteria. Alicia had chosen to continue working on her masterpiece in an empty classroom. Besides, she wasn't supposed to go into the sun a lot anyway and she didn't have any friends besides her cousins who went to different schools. The art room had quickly filled up with other students looking for a quieter time.

"Who's that?" the girl asked, pointing to an unprofessional portrait of a blond haired woman with dark blue eyes. When she did not reply, the girl reiterated. "I asked who that was. Is it your whore-mother?"

_'Ignore. Ignore. Ignore.'_

"Or maybe it's your drunk-father? I can't tell. Your drawing sucks."

She twitched when she heard the snickers.

"Hello? Are you seriously so stupid you can't tell what I'm asking? even if you're deaf you should be able to figure it out!"

"I'm not deaf," Alicia finally mumbled out.

"Just stupid, right?"

When Alicia didn't respond, she snatched the paper away, the white-haired girl letting out a small cry of anguish as the brunette ripped her happy family to shreds.

The others watched as Alicia desperately tried to stop her, arms reaching and hands grabbing for her art project. It wasn't long before two children had her in their hold, allowing their little show to continue. Hot, salty tears rolled down the girl's face from her too-pale eyes. Their insults flew from everywhere, louder and louder with each passing second.

When the girl had finally torn the paper to shreds and those shreds littered the floor, she stomped on them.

"You're _such_ a _freak_."

* * *

From there it only got worse. For the first time in her life her "ignore" strategy wasn't working. It only seemed to cause more problems. For awhile the bullying was merely verbal.

"_Your mother is a whore!"_

"_Your father is a rapist!"_

"_You're so retarded!"_

"_Weirdo!"_

"_Loser!"_

"_FREAK!"_

Alicia had always been a quiet girl. Even with her relatives she tended to keep her mouth closed. It wasn't as if her parents encouraged silence (certainly not with Gilbert for a father and a mother related to Alfred). She had just always noticed she was _different_. People stared. They whispered. It made her self-conscious. School only made it worse. It made her heart heavy and forced her to be strong and bottle everything away. After all, what could she possibly do? Telling someone wouldn't make it stop. And saying something to them only seemed to encourage them to act more violently.

"_I'm not a freak! I just look different!"_

"_FREAK! FREAK! FREAK!"_

"_Stop it! I'm not! There's nothing wrong with me!"_

"_You really believe that? Who told you you weren't? Your slut mother? Your worthless father? You're going to believe them against all of __**us**__?"_

"_My mother is NOT a slut! My father is NOT worthless!"_

"_Stop lying to yourself! Everyone says so! You know it has to be true!"_

"_It's not! It's not!"_

"_FREAK! FREAK! FREAK!"_

She would always remember how they grabbed her and threw her against a table, a blond boy she had once thought cute rolling up the sleeve of her left arm. She would always remember the fear she had felt rushing through her sinuses, making them ultra-sensitive, every part of her body attentive and desperate to get away; the laughter that surrounded her was unbearable as one of the eldest children took an ex-acto knife--the one their art teacher had been looking for for the past week--to her arm.

Alicia could not even scream.

Hands held her mouth closed, so many on her face that they blocked her nose and began to suffocate her. Her eyes that were too pale leaked tears and they only seemed to dribble out faster as she shut them tight from pain.

Just when she was about to pass out they let go.

"_So you'll always remember! FREAK!"_

They vanished as if they had never been there at all.

Alicia gasped for air and she only just managed to wearily look at her arm.

_FREAK_

Wiping her eyes, she blotted the stinging wound with a paper towel from the girls bathroom and pulled down her sleeve.

_FREAK FREAK FREAK FREAK_

The rest of the day passed as if it had never happened.

* * *

Time passed. The words scarred. The boy who had crudely carved them into her arm had to do so four times to make them legible, she realized after they scabbed, because the knife had been so fine. It looked as if a cat had taken upon itself the duty to post a permanent reminder on her arm.

Her parents never noticed the scars. She didn't want them to know. Her father would show up at the school and punch someone out, effectively getting himself arrested. Her mother would cry and never leave her alone. And, if they were to get involved, the bullying would only grow worse. No, this was something Alicia needed to tackle alone.

So she wore long sleeves all the time, even when it was hot out. She claimed her skin had grown more sensitive to the sun and no matter how much sunblock she wore she just simply couldn't stand it. Alicia knew they suspected something was up by the way that they watched her. She could hear them talking when they thought she wasn't around. The funny thing about being bullied is it makes it easier to hear things people whisper.

This couldn't go on. She needed to find a solution. This had to stop. The white-haired girl figured that once she solved this problem she would come clean with her parents about it. Then it wouldn't be such a big deal that she had "FREAK" carved into her arm. Her classmates would stop their stupid teasing and her parents would remind her constantly that the words on her arm meant nothing.

At least, that's what she tried to tell herself. Yet everyday it got harder and harder to believe.

"I'm not a freak."

"_FREAK! FREAK! FREAK!" _she could hear them shouting.

"I. Am not. A freak."

"_FREAK! FREAK! FREAK!"_

"I am not a freak!"

"_FREAK" _her arm spat at her when nobody was around.

"I. AM NOT. A _FREAK_!"

"_Freak..." _someone whispered.

"NO!"

"_Freak..." _Who was it?

"STOP IT!"

"_FREAK."_

"I KNOW! I KNOW I'M A FREAK! I KNOW! I KNOW I SHOULD HAVE NEVER BEEN BORN AT ALL! I KNOW!"

The person who kept whispering it even when there weren't others around and even when she wasn't looking at her arm was none other than herself.

* * *

Gilbert was having the usual beer at his brother's house when his phone started ringing.

It was the first Friday of the month, the day the "Beilschmidt Clan", as he liked to call it, got together to have dinner together. Him, Nina, Alicia, his brother, his brother's wife-thing, and their own bunch of rugrats would chill at either of their homes for a meal and time to talk about what had been going on as of late. While Italy had been the one to suggest it with Nina quickly jumping on board, it seemed that they had planned it for the two brothers who were so used to living together before Ludwig married Feliciano.

That had been a slap in the face, Gilbert remembered.

"_Feliciano has agreed to marry me."_

"_Well, jeez, West! Don't sound so damn happy about it!" Prussia smirked. "If I was a fag like you and knew I could now tap that cute little ass whenever I wanted, I'd be rubbing it in your face and bouncing off the walls like the Easter Bunny on crack!"_

_His little brother sighed. "I KNOW, Gilbert. The thing is, though..."_

"_What? You look hella nervous. Did you knock him up already or something? Is that why you guys are getting married? Kesesesese!" the albino laughed._

"_Gilbert...You need to move out."_

_A staring contest ensued. _

"_..............Whut?"_

_'Stupid West. Picking a nice piece of ass over his own brother! Hmph!'_

Still, he missed that "macho potato" as one brother-in-law's brother so eloquently put it. And, of course, how could Ludwig not miss the awesomeness that was Gilbert?

He knew this was their way of letting the brothers hang out together like old times. They giggled behind their hands when they sat on the same old couch with the same old type of beer and talked about the same old things. Ludwig still nagged Gilbert. Gilbert still talked about how damn awesome he was.

Nina should have been out picking up Alicia from school at this time. As he flipped open his phone to take the call that he assumed was from his wife, he glanced at the clock.

They should have been there already.

"The most awesome person you'll ever meet speaking. How may I invade your vital regions?" he said the last part quite seductively, in his opinion. That probably wasn't a good idea. Now Nina would crash the car because she just could not stand his sexiness! And that would not be good. His precious car!

"Erm...Herr Beilschmidt?"

Oh. Shit. That was NOT Nina.

Ah, well. Now his car would be all right at least.

"Yep, that's me."

"I'm calling from the school your daughter, Alicia Beilschmidt, attends. This is her principal speaking. I was hoping you could come down for a brief meeting about her behavior."

"Aw...Well, it's really not a great time, you see--" he started.

"Your wife is already here and so are the other child's parents. She has also agreed that this matter is more important than you having a beer with your brother, which she would like to remind you you can do after."

"_Excuse_ me?"

"Her words, not mine, Herr Beilschmidt."

"Yeah, whatever..." he hung up without even saying when or if he would even be there.

"WEST! YOU'LL NEVER BELIEVE IT! MY ALICIA HAS _FINALLY_ BEEN SENT TO THE PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE!"

"I'm worried you're so excited about this..."

* * *

"I just don't understand why she would do something like that...Alicia has always been a very gentle girl. There must be some kind of mistake."

Prussia grinned as he watched Nina try to defend their daughter. She was not happy in the least about this little conference, but he was ready to throw a party and celebrate. He had spent years hoping that one day his genes would awaken in Alicia! Well, beyond appearance, that is.

"Nope! It was all her! All our adorable, awesome, little Alicia! This kid must've been pissing her off so she took matters into her own hands like her awesome father! She couldn't take it anymore and just had to knock him a new one!"

Nina sighed. "I really wish you weren't so happy about this...It's not a good thing, you know."

"Says you and my brother!"

"Herr Beilschmidt!" the principal snapped. "This is a very serious meeting! Our school does not tolerate violence of any kind!"

Gilbert's red eyes scanned the principal's face and then the mother whose son had been punched. Both looked irritated and less than happy. He snorted.

"Gimme a break. It was probably the other kid's fault. He probably provoked her or something."

"My son was harmless!"

"Sure he was. So she just punched him for no reason."

"Yes!"

"Bullshit," he scoffed, a smirk creeping its way onto his face.

"Gilbert!" Nina hissed. "Please be civil!"

He merely rolled his crimson eyes at her and flopped back into the less than comfortable chair provided for him.

The administrator took out a stack of papers from her desk. She sighed and leafed through a few of them before shaking her head and handing it to Nina, whom she deemed more sane than her husband.

"These are some of Alicia's drawings and writing assignments. You'll see that they're not exactly...cheery..."

She took her daughter's papers while flashing a worried look at Gilbert, who only furrowed his eyebrows. They had known something had been bothering their daughter, but they had never had evidence on paper. When asked, she had always responded she was fine and they had nothing to worry about. But, being parents, of course they worried.

Nina flipped through the large stack slowly at first, but her pace increased as a minute ticked by and she had not even gone through a quarter of the papers. She looked at one, then discarded it into Gilbert's lap, each of their faces going from nervous and concerned to fearful with worry. Eventually Nina could no longer look at such depressing words and images that had been scribbled down by her beloved child's hands. With a shaky breath, she reached for her husband's hand and he gripped it firmly in his own, his eyes narrowed and his mouth set in a hard frown.

"We're going to have to ask you to correct this problem at home. This behavior is unacceptable for such a young child. We realize that how Alicia came to be is rather...well...There's no way to put it nicely, but I'm sure you know what I mean, and it's just not good for a child. We're sure you're doing your best as young parents, especially you, Mrs. Beilschmidt. We know teenage pregnancies can be hard with the responsibilities, but you must realize that a child, especially a girl, needs a real mother and--"

"Where is Alicia now?" Gilbert cut off the principal's rant, dropping his wife's hand and gritting his teeth.

She looked taken aback at that. "I'm sorry?"

"Where. Is. My. Daughter. _NOW?"_ he punctuated, standing up from his chair, his hands balling into tight fists.

"I...W-well, we assumed she just went home...She didn't get on the bus, and she just walked off, but we figured that your home couldn't be too far and--"

"Woah, woah, woah!" Gilbert interrupted once more, holding up his hand and giving a little laugh that indicated he found nothing about this situation funny at all. "Are you preaching to me and to my _wife—insulting us--_how to be responsible parents, when you don't even make sure if a kid you believe to be emotionally unstable is on her way home from school? When part of your job is to make sure every kid leaves this place and gets home safely?"

"That is not a part of our job. Your job as parents should be to--!" she looked nervous and it showed. Her voice became louder, but she should have known that Gilbert had only just started his attack.

"YOUR JOB! Is to make sure every child is either picked up by a parent or on a bus route! I _know_ that you're not allowed to just let a kid walk off the school campus like that! I _know_ that you're not allowed to let an _emotionally unstable_ kid walk off like that! AND IF--! IF--! IF you knew Alicia was having such problems, weren't you supposed to tell us the _first _or even _second_ time she appeared depressed?! Weren't you supposed to _inform us_ that our daughter was being picked on?! WELL?!"

"Th-that is--!"

"Gilbert, her arms! W-what if she...?" Nina stood too, grabbing at the enraged albino man's arm. Their eyes locked and he instantly knew what she was talking about. "...It's bright today..."

"She wouldn't...She knows..." Prussia shook his head, but his face gave away his own fears were the same.

"But...what if she doesn't care anymore?"

"Mein Gott...Call West and Feli and America and England. We need everyone to look. I'll start, okay?"

"Y-yeah...G-gilbert...?" he sighed as he saw her eyes well up with tears.

"Hey, hey! No crying! You're too awesome for that, right? No tears, Nina! We'll find her! I promise! The awesome me never fails, right?" he hugged her and placed a small kiss atop her head quickly before reaching for the doorknob.

"What about _my_ child!? He was savagely punched by this little demon of yours and--!"

Nina, in a sudden fit of New Jersey mobster rage that was much like how Romano sometimes got into his mafia mode, grabbed the woman by her collar and looked her firmly in the eye, all traces of tears gone. "You want to say something about my daughter who was pushed to the edge because your piece of slime made her life a living hell?"

"Y-you don't know that he was one of the abusers!"

"Well, he certainly wasn't trying to help her, either, now was he? He just sat back and watched. And under the law, that's just as guilty," she spat back and glared at the woman, only releasing her hold when Prussia placed a hand on her shoulder.

"C'mon. Let's get everyone out there. We don't have time to spare."

* * *

In an hour everyone was out looking for a white-haired girl with sensitive eyes. Ludwig searched around the school's general area, while Gilbert checked the woods and streams. Feliciano had taken to shops in town, which seemed the least likely place to find a child ridiculed by society, but the couple would take no chances. Nina was meeting Arthur and Alfred at the airport, who had brought their own brat pack. They had flown in, worried that perhaps a family crisis was at hand.

While Nina no longer considered Alfred and Arthur her parents after they had Elizabeth, the ties that bound them were still strong and Alicia was something like a cousin for the sibling-less Liza.

They all grew more tense as the hours passed. Soon the sun would set, and any hope of finding Alicia would dwindle to near nothingness.

"Fuck it! FUCK IT ALL!" Gilbert shouted as he ran alongside a river. He stopped by a tree and proceeded to punch it out of frustration, cursing and screaming until finally he couldn't anymore. He fell to his knees and tried to calm himself, looking from the bark of the beaten tree to his feet.

That's when he saw it.

A tube of strong sunblock, its white contents squeezed out onto the grass, contrasting with its vibrant green. A pair of smashed, dark sunglasses were only a few feet away.

Suddenly he was on his feet faster than ever. Picking up the pace, he sprinted along until he found a glimmer of something white along the bank, jutting out from the river.

As he ran faster, he saw a trail of scattered clothes; ones Alicia had worn when she left the house that morning.

And then he was there, pulling her out of the water and onto the grass, half of her naked body sunburned beyond belief, the other half freezing from being in the river for hours. He didn't want to touch her. She was burned so badly that his hands left fleeting white marks on her body with every light touch. Gilbert didn't know what to do. He didn't want to hurt Alicia by trying to carry her, even if she was unconscious and the pain would not register. At the same time he needed to get her to a hospital quickly.

Wiping away a few strands of hair off her forehead, he set her down and let a hand comb through his own hair as he punched in 911 on his cell phone. After doing his best to explain his coordinates and what happened, he got right on the next task of calling a wife that was most surely about to have a panic attack.

God, she was cute. But damn if she wasn't an unintentional, well-meaning pain in the ass. Nina seemed to inherit that from Alfred. He worried that she had passed on that awful gene to Alicia.

"Hey, it's me. I found her."

"Oh my God! You found her?!" Gilbert immediately heard from the other line. Then a whisper in the background to the others, "He found her! He found her!"

She sounded overjoyed. Damn it, why did someone as awesome as him have to be the bearer of bad news? It seemed to be his job when it came to Nina. He was always informing her of things that just seemed to break her. Explaining Romano and Antonio were in a gay relationship and, no, he would never return her feelings, had been a bitch (though it ended quite nicely). This was so much worse.

God, how she ever managed to fall in love with the messenger that would have been shot ten times over by now, he'd never know.

"She's not...She's not good, Nina. Not bad. Not dead. No missing limbs. But she's not good..." he sighed. "I think...I think she tried to kill herself by getting skin cancer or hypothermia. Either one. I'm getting her to a hospital now, but...Well, I guess that's it. I'll meet you at Kleinengel Hospital, okay?"

He didn't hear anything from the other end.

"You knew that's what we'd probably find, Nina."

Gilbert heard her take a shuddery breath. "I know...But I was just hoping we were wrong..."

They hung up after that. He assumed she would finish calling everyone else so he could focus on their daughter. He took off his jacket and shirt and covered her with it, not wanting her skin to take any more abuse and for modesty's sake. Then he turned to her lower, shivering half. Doing his best to be the father she deserved, he ran his hands up and down her short legs and tiny feet, desperately trying to make her warmer.

His eyes strayed to her face for a moment, looking so sad and dejected even while unconscious. Gilbert turned his head away to look at the rest of her body, remembering how protective she'd been with her arms. Pausing in his ministrations, he inspected her right and then her left, and he almost missed it. Leaning in closer, he could clearly see it.

FREAK.

Prussia wanted to punch someone. He had no idea if it was Alicia or another child who had gone so far as to never spare her a moment without ridicule, but it pissed him off either way. It had scarred and he wasn't sure if they would be able to make it disappear even with the constant use of that sticky vitamin E liquid.

"People don't seem to get why I'm so proud of myself. Only your mother gets me. One of the reasons I love her," Gilbert started to talk even though he knew she couldn't hear him. He didn't care. Maybe somewhere in her subconscious this would all register and she'd somehow get the gist of it. And if she didn't, he'd repeat himself when she finally woke up. "But Vögelchen, I am this way because if I wasn't I'd end up like how you are now. You have to be proud of who you are. Even if you let it go to your head. You have to remember that nobody can make you feel inferior without your permission. That's what your mother's first lady said awhile ago. And she's right," he paused to draw a hand along her cheek, not burned by the sun because her hair had shielded it. "But you aren't inferior. You're the most amazing, awesome girl I know. The only one who can rival you is your mother, but you're more awesome by default because you're half me, you know?" he waited as if she would answer.

"Ah, damn it all...Why is it that I can only be good at this heart-to-heart parenting thing when you're unconscious?"

* * *

When Alicia awoke, she was surprised to find herself in a white room with the gentle sound of machines beeping. She was also surprised to find her uncle Ludwig arranging a bouquet of flowers on a nightstand right next to her.

"Guten Morgen, Vögelchen. That's what your Vater always calls you, right?" he smiled at her. "I hope you don't mind if I use it. It's quite the unusual nickname, but somehow it fits. Your mother uses the English version, ja? 'Birdie'?"

She merely looked at him and nodded slowly. For some reason she was exhausted despite having slept for hours. And she was ravenously hungry.

Her uncle seemed to anticipate this and supplied, "Feliciano went to get some food for you. I suspect it's pasta. I hope you don't mind. Your mother told him you like potatoes and pizza best, but...Well...You know how he is."

"Where are they?" she finally said something, her mouth dry and her throat painful.

Ludwig handed her a glass of water before motioning his head to the right of her. "You'll have to forgive them. They're tired. They were up all night worrying. I'm sure both of them will be mad when they find out they weren't conscious when you woke up."

"My back hurts..." she complained after she had downed the glass, not even acknowledging her parents' bodies that lay slumped together, her mother's head on her father's shoulder and his arm around her waste protectively.

"Well, you've got quite the sunburn. And they needed to scrape off some skin for tests." He left out the part about why.

'_To check if you have developed skin cancer.'_

"Oh..." she muttered, languorously closing her tired eyes.

Her uncle coughed, jolting her from the nap she had been slowly drifting into. "Alicia, we need to talk."

She cracked an eye open. "No we don't."

"No? We don't need to talk about why you tried to kill yourself? We're just supposed to act as if this never happened?" he raised his eyebrows with mock surprise.

"You're not my dad. I don't have to tell you anything."

"No, I'm not. And no, you don't. But I'm your uncle. And don't you think it would be easier telling your uncle than your Vater?"

She said nothing for awhile, and he waited patiently. When she did speak, she only had questions for him rather than the answers he expected.

"Onkel Ludwig...?"

"Ja?"

"Warum...Why...Why does everyone say bad things about us? About me? About mom and Vatti? What is so wrong with my family? Why does everyone hate us?"

He sighed and mused things over in his mind before telling her anything. Though it was an unspoken agreement to never tell Alicia how her parents came together and how she was brought into the world, it appeared as if that was the wrong decision considering how things had turned out. Ludwig couldn't help but wonder if perhaps knowing would have been better for her. After all, it wasn't as if Gilbert and Nina didn't love her or each other. Just the way their family came to be was...complicated and the sheer facts gave off a bad impression. Only those who had seen the couple with their child understood how much love they shared and how right they were for each other.

"First, not everyone hates you, Alicia. I love you very much. As does your mother, your Vater, Feliciano, and all your cousins. And you know that Alfred and Arthur simply adore you."

"And the rest of the world?"

Ludwig sighed. "Your parents should really be the one to tell you this, but...I think it might be best if I did. I think you need to know now. Perhaps you should have known a long time ago. But, either way, you must remember that everyone here loves you and your parents love you very much. Understood?"

"Understood."

"All right, then...Let me tell you the story of how your parents met and fell in love and, eventually, had you..."

* * *

A/N: Well, I WAS going to continue all the way through with the whole story of Gil and Nina, but this is already about a normal chapter's length long. So there might be a bit of a break from this family and we'll do a much cheerier USUK fic next, but after that I'll probably jump back to these guys and explain their story and Alicia's reaction. You guys probably hated this chapter because of the OC but I had to use one. I usually pair Hungary and Prussia, but for this story Hungary and Austria together worked out better. But I didn't want to leave poor Prussia alone! So I took my state-tan NJ.

Long explanation is long, right?

But yeah, I know that not translating crap must be annoying for you guys, so I'll tell you some of the less obvious ones from now on. For example, Vögelchen means birdie in German. Birdie is Gil's nickname for Alicia.

By the way, did anybody else love to the idea of Uncle!Ludwig? Haha! I couldn't resist!

Oh, and somebody also explained to me that all babies born with blue eyes is just a myth. Sorry for any confusion and/or offense! Fail research/author/writing is fail...

And yeah, I did a research project on albinism, so the story here was heavily inspired by it. A lot of people think albinos are retarded, but that's not the case at all...I hope I researched THIS thoroughly enough...I got a 96 on the project... (DAMN MY EYE CONTACT! LOSING ME POINTS!)

So I'm sorry again for the long wait and the sucky chapter (I apologize for any errors), but I promise we'll take a break from such angst and get back to some more fun things in the next chapter with USUK! Thanks!


	6. America & England: Proposal & 3

OMG! USUK? FINALLY!

* * *

Like most things, it started with America. And like most things that started with America, it would go down in history. It would come to be known in textbooks as the Great Marriage Race.

Not to be confused with the regular ol' Marriage Race, which probably involved a pregnant teenager, her boyfriend, and Vegas.

Actually, in reality, it started with Canada. But because nobody paid any attention to him, everyone just said it started with America. Because he's the hero!

* * *

"Mattie, I'm just looking out for you," Alfred F. Jones raised his hands as a sign of peace. "I'm your bro. I've always got your back. Nobody knows you better than me. And I can tell ya right now, you ain't gonna be happy living with a commie bastard for the rest of your life."

Matthew Williams glared at his older brother. "You don't have the right to say that when you forget my name half the time. I think Ivan knows me much better than you by now."

"_Ivan,"_ America spat. "_Ivan._ I prefer the term 'damn psychopath' myself!"

Canada sighed and turned back to the grittle he was making pancakes on. The two men were in the Canadian's kitchen, Alfred having come over to "discuss" the "recent developments" a "reliable informant" had enlightened him about.

By "discuss", he meant "oppose". By "recent developments", he meant Matthew's intent to marry Russia. And by "reliable informant", he meant Alaska, who was put up to the task of spying on the happy couple by her so-called father.

"I don't care what you say. I'm still marrying him."

"But Matttttiiiie!" Alfred whined in the way only he could. "I don't wanna be related to a fuckin' Red!"

"Alfred! Shut up or you're not getting any pancakes!" Matthew shouted (or at least, his equivalent of shouting; really, it was more like he was finally speaking at a normal volume). "I don't care what you say! I'm happy with him! At least he doesn't forget my name!"

"He _sat_ on you at the World Conference!" America hissed. "He didn't even _notice _you were there!"

"Actually, he later confessed that he just wanted to touch me," Canada countered and, despite his earlier ultimatum, piled a few pancakes onto his brother's plate, who promptly began shoveling them into his mouth. "He's really a very sweet person."

"Fuckin' weirdo," Alfred said through a mouthful of syrupy breakfast food, his words muffled and hardly understandable with food flying out of his mouth and back onto his plate.

Matthew, who was used to his brother talking with his mouth full, did not even attempt to scold him for his atrocious table manners. Only England seemed to be able to get him to pay the slightest bit of attention when it came to that particular subject.

"I love him, Alfred. And I know that there are other reasons besides your 'just looking out for my baby bro' ploy. _Selfish_ reasons. Just remember that whenever you get married—_if_ someone were stupid enough to marry a self-centered brat like you—that I would be supportive and _never_ try to interfere because of my own interests."

America's fork dropped to his plate with a loud clatter. His face turned blue, and he grabbed for his throat making pitiful noises. Canada quickly hopped up from his chair and own plate of pancakes to get behind his brother and give him the Heimlich maneuver. A large piece of half-chewed, saliva-covered pancake shot out of his mouth and onto the Canadian's plate, effectively ruining his breakfast and causing him to lose his appetite.

"W-what? My reasons are _totally_ unselfish! Why, to think you feel differently about your own brother who cares about you so much..." Alfred started to rant.

Matthew sighed and tuned him out, reaching for the plates and cleaning up his kitchen.

Such were typical visits from his loving brother.

* * *

"Man...How come he just can't see it my way? I mean, I'm totally right, right?" America mumbled to himself, walking down one of the less busy streets of New York City. "And I know my kids back me on this one. There are fifty of them! That means I _definitely_ can't be wrong!"

Crossing his arms and leaning against the wall of a convenience store, he let himself rest and just think of ways to stop his brother from marrying a crazy bastard that would undoubtedly hurt him in the future (or worse, America and his awesome, heroic self!). He flipped his cell phone open and close a few times out of a boredom habit before sticking it into the back pocket of his jeans and crossing his arms once more.

So caught up in his thoughts, he did not even notice that the personification of New York was running towards him. It was only when she gave a high pitched squeal of delight and threw her arms around his neck, nearly knocking him off his feet, did he jolt out of his daydreaming.

"Dad! You're here!" she crushed him in a tight hug.

"Woah there, Brook! Where's the fire?" he untangled himself from her and set his hands on her shoulders, taking her in for the first time in awhile.

Her blond hair that was so much like England's was swept into a bun with a few strands framing the side of her face. Ever keeping up with the times, her clothes had been perfectly picked out to match the season's latest line. Which, America noted, meant her skirt was much too short and he would have to reprimand her for it once he got into his "Dad Mode" groove.

Blue eyes a shade darker than his peered at him with what he recognized as longing. "What's up, Brook? Things been okay? I know it's been shaky for awhile after 9/11 and all..."

"Oh, everything's fine! I mean, yeah, the crime rate ain't exactly peachy, but it makes life interestin', ya know? It's dog-eat-dog out in the real world. Something that New Jersey, by the way, will _never_ understand! She just doesn't compare to me! And Bo? Please! I'll knock his friggin' socks off and right out of the park!"

America was only half paying attention. Brook was known to jump from subject to subject quickly. He realized early on in their relationship that it was okay to tune her out for 99% of the conversation, provided that 1% was agreeing with whatever she said. This was especially true whenever she brought up hers and New Jersey's or Massachusetts' rivalry.

"You don't think Canada should marry Russia, right?" America suddenly interjected.

New York, not the least bit put off by his interruption, fired off as if that was what they had been talking about all along. "Psh! No! He should totally marry France! I mean, France totally has style! If he marries Canada, he'll be over on our side of the world more often and we can exchange tips and stuff! Oh, or he can marry one of the Italy brothers. But they're kinda taken already, so...Yeah, France is like, the only option! I mean, wouldn't it be cool if..."

She was a lost cause, but at least she didn't think Matthew and Ivan were a good match. Taking out a notebook, he marked down that it was one for one against the idea. Forty-nine more states to go! If he approached Canada with something like a petition or survey about the whole thing that demonstrated just how wrong the rest of the world saw this, maybe he would come to his senses and call it all off. He would ask each of his states what their opinions were.

Because, you know, it's not like asking Canada's own states instead of his was the smarter idea. Why would Canada care about what his states thought? Only America's counted! Everyone knew that!

* * *

He found New Jersey in a field of tomatoes, picking the ones she deemed ready and bypassing those she did not. She looked stupidly happy, her blond hair that was, again, so very much like Arthur's blowing in the slight breeze.

New Jersey was quite the character. He could never really describe her. She was like both the Italy brothers all in one. One minute stupidly happy, the next crying her eyes out, and then spitting with rage after that. Perhaps the Spain-type of person was a better way to put it. Everyone knew the Spaniard was a cheerful, good-natured albeit stupid sort of person; however, get him angry and he would go conquistador on your ass.

Maybe it was the influx of Spanish and Italian immigrants over the years. Her state vegetable was the tomato (which Brook loved to tease her about; "Are you really so stupid you don't know the tomato is a fruit?") and he did notice an awful lot of pizza places wherever he went. Four in the town she actually lived in alone...

He wondered why, for such a tiny and emotional state, she had always been one of England's favorites. To him it didn't make any sense, but whatever reason Arthur had for her special treatment, she seemed to appreciate it. Alfred often wondered if Nina liked the moody Brit more than him. Of course, that had to be impossible! But still, sometimes he would get this vibe that she was upset with him for something...

"Hey! Nina!"

Startled, she looked up from her work with pleasant surprise in her eyes. Her peepers were a shade of blue that matched his own, and he knew that New Jersey was secretly proud of the trivial fact.

"Dad? Is that really you?"

"No, I'm the New Jersey Devil," Alfred rolled his eyes.

"Oh, okay! Nice impression!" she grinned at him, taking him seriously. "Hey, did you catch the latest Devil's game? I told you they're doing you proud! How's the Pine Barrens?"

"Erm...Nina, I was kidding...It is me...America."

"Oh! The Devil has been working on impressions lately, so I thought maybe..." she trailed off.

Right. The New Jersey Devil..._That's _why she was Arthur's favorite. She too could see the faeries that obviously didn't exist.

"Anyway, what do you think of Matthew marrying that communist bastard?"

"Who?" she cocked her head, eyebrows crinkling together. "I mean, I know you're talking about Russia, but the other..."

"Canada. Your uncle," he explained. "He says he's going to marry Russia."

"Oh...Russia is really scary, you know? I don't think I really like the idea of them being together..." Nina frowned, but after a few moments shrugged. "Well! Nothing I can do about it! Besides, it doesn't affect me at all!"

Humming, she turned back to her tomatoes. "Spain said that they're growing really well! He was surprised I had such a knack for it! I prefer cranberries to tomatoes as of late, but tomatoes _are _my state vegetable so I promised to ship him some Jersey tomatoes. We've become good friends recently with a bunch of his people coming to my place and-"

"NINA JESSAMINE JONES! WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?"

Out of nowhere appeared one angry Penn Sylvester Jones, making a beeline for the lighter-haired blond of the two in the field with a look of murder on his face.

"Well, saves me the trouble of going to Pennsylvania..." Alfred muttered, whipping out the little notepad he had been using to collect information as Penn grabbed Nina's face and began pulling and stretching it every which way.

"Ow! Ow! Ow! OW! Penn, stop! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! What did I do? What did I do!" she cried, reaching for his hands.

With a huff, Pennsylvania lowered his hands from her face and crossed his arms, going into "Stern Lecturing New Jersey Mode".

"I told you to stay put for _five_ minutes, and what do you do? You run off somewhere without telling me! Do you have any idea how worried I was? I thought you got yourself kidnapped or raped or something!"

"You were only gone for five minutes..." she pointed out.

"EXACTLY! SO WHY DID YOU RUN OFF?"

"Because I don't feel comfortable in Amish country! The people look at me funny!"

"That's because you stand there like a space cadet! _Anyone_ would look at you funny when you're standing there like a moron!"

"Penn, you have _way_ too much UST," Delaware, who had a knack for sneaking up on people, popped out from behind Nina. "Stop trying to take it out on New Jersey, you pervert. Maybe the Amish accept incest, and Utah too, but the rest of us don't."

"Where the hell did _you _come from?" Penn hissed at the strawberry blond. "And the Amish do _not_ accept incest!"

"So just you, huh?"

"We aren't really related! You all talk about being siblings and America being our dad, but you seem to forget we're just his messengers! It's not incestuous at all if I want to take Nina out on a date!"

"Date?" the girl in question sounded quite confused. "All I wanted was some of that famous Pennsylvania Dutch candy..."

She was ignored by all parties present.

"Oh? I guess you're right, then..." Delaware smirked, a mysterious gleam in her green eyes. "It's perfectly acceptable for me to do _this_, right?"

She snaked an arm around an uncomfortable New Jersey's waste, hand trailing under the younger girl's shirt and tongue flicking out to lick her cheek with skill that could rival France's.

"Delaney, stop! That's totally gross!" Nina squirmed, a disgusted look on her face.

Delaney never took her eyes off Pennsylvania. "You _wish_ you could do this...We share a river. We have something _special_. You've got nothing on me."

Penn blushed a furious shade of red. "I-I do not-! And you're a moron, you know that? The Delaware River also runs through New York and Pennsylvania, too!"

America finally decided it was time to step in before Delaware and Pennsylvania started another civil war. Not that they ever would. Delaney was merely teasing and he knew that despite what she said, she actually had the biggest crush on the loud-mouth. Not that she would ever pursue it. It wasn't her style to chase something that never paid any real attention to her in the first place.

"Delaney, let your sister go. Penn, quit screaming. And Nina..."

She looked at him as if to say, "What did I do?"

"Just stop being so damn stupid and oblivious, okay?" he sat down next to the basket of tomatoes, ignoring the lump of his cell phone in his back pocket digging into his left butt cheek.

New Jersey gave a salute while the other two rolled their eyes.

"Before you ask," Delaney started, flicking her bangs out of her eyes, "I don't care about Canada and Russia. But you're being totally selfish."

Alfred clenched his notebook. Damn these kids.

"Come again?"

Penn nodded in agreement. "Just because you're upset about not being the first one to get married doesn't mean you should ruin it for your brother."

"What? That's totally not-!"

"I just don't see why you don't marry England if you're that upset. I'm sure you guys could go to Vegas. Nevada would give you a discount. He's a really good guy," Nina crossed her arms and cocked her head, thinking.

"I don't want to-!" America tried to choke out, but Delaware beat him to it.

"America and England together again, huh? Or rather, Alfred and Arthur. I don't want America and England back together. And you know Bo will just have a fit if Massachusetts becomes part of England again."

"Well, _obviously_ it's not going to be a political marriage. You want UST? Those two have it."

"Imagine the wedding night!" Delaney cooed.

"I'd rather not..." Penn mumbled as Nina whipped out her cell phone to dial Nevada's number.

"Would you guys stop already?" America shouted. His kids were always arguing, but when it came to annoying him, they all seemed to team up. "Why would I want to marry England anyway?"

"Because you've been secretly dating for the past sixty years and it's about time you guys come out and tell us because everyone already knows anyway," Delaware supplied.

Alfred's jaw dropped. How could they have possibly known! They were so careful!

Penn read his mind. "Fucking England on the Conference Room table during break does not constitute as being inconspicuous."

The nation stared at his three states, none of them backing down and turning away. Once the little staring contest was over, America sighed and leaned back on his hands.

"Marry Iggy? But he's so..." Alfred trailed off uncertainly.

"I support it," Delaney said.

"Seconded."

"Third!" Nina cheered and then paused. "Or is it thirded?"

"You guys really think I should marry Iggy?" Alfred shook his head. "I don't even have a ring or a plan or anything...And weddings take forever to plan. There's no way we could get married before Matthew and that socialist psycho."

"Dad. Nevada. Vegas. Alcohol. Iggy. Get the picture?" Delaney punctuated.

"He'd hate me forever if we got married and he couldn't even remember it!"

"True," Pennsylvania agreed, then suggested, "Why not just propose, but then get all excited about it and say you can't wait and the wedding has to be in at least a few months? England would think you're all romantic and spontaneous."

"Or!" Nina spoke before he could voice his opinion on Penn's idea. "You could always just talk to Canada and explain to him that you want to have your wedding first! I'm sure he'd be nice about it!"

Alfred ignored her. "Penn, that's a great idea! You know what? I...I think I'll do it!"

Delaney pouted. "Damn. I really wanted to see how the Vegas-thing would turn out..."

"It's official! I, Alfred F. Jones, America, the greatest nation in the word, am going to propose to Arthur Kirkland, England, the _second_ greatest nation in the world!"

The three states exchanged looks.

Delaney sighed. "Not gonna be as cool as Vegas, but it should still be fun to watch you fuck this up."

* * *

The milkshake was perfect—just the way he liked it. Made from thick vanilla ice cream and with a dash of red, white, and blue sprinkles in the shape of stars for a touch of patriotism he could never live without...

Shame it was wasted when England threw it in his face.

"Go to hell, you selfish git!" the Brit screamed at him in the middle of a Johnny Rockets, which Alfred had chosen as his place of proposal. McDonald's was too casual for this special occasion. Johnny Rockets, with its old diner feel, was a step up and considered fancy by his standards. Perhaps Iggy didn't feel the same way.

"As if I could ever agree to marry someone that doesn't even really love me!"

Alfred, shocked and humiliated with the remains of the milkshake streaming down his face and making his glasses impossible to see through, gaped at him. "What...Iggy, what the hell are you talking about? You know I love you!"

"No, you just love being first! First at everything! Figured you beat Russia in your race to the moon, might as well beat him at getting married too! And God forbid your younger brother, who you always overshadow, get married first!" Arthur seethed, not caring that he was making quite a scene.

America must have looked like a fish. Everyone was staring at them. He didn't even have to look to know. The entire joint had gone silent. Even the music from the jukebox had been cut off by some annoying, nosy civilian.

"Then you go and you talk to those brats of yours...Three of those damned thirteen original," he made a face, as if he were about to utter a particularly filthy word, "_colonies! _The traitors! And you actually _listen_ to them! Which is amazing, considering you normally _never _do! Well, I'm not surprised! They made you leave me in the first place!"

Arthur wasn't even buzzed and he was letting him have it. He was seriously upset about all this. But one thing Alfred didn't understand was how the hell he knew about everything.

The look on his face must have said it all, because the next thing he knew was England had snatched America's cell phone off the table and thrown it at the rejected, thoroughly embarrassed man's head.

"Your stupid fat arse gave you away!"

And with that, the hero's Brittania Angel left the burger joint, leaving him to clean up a very sticky mess.

Literally and figuratively.

"Iggy! Iggy, wait!"

The British man kept walking, ignoring his former colony with tightly clenched fists. The night was a bit nippy and the air was crisp, but it did nothing to cool his temper down. With his stiff upper lip, he was determined to not give in to the American's pleas.

He stumbled when he was suddenly pulled into an embrace, Alfred's arms like steel around him, preventing England from getting away.

"Arthur, just listen to me!" Alfred cried into his ear as he continued to struggle, despite knowing it was useless and he would never manage to wiggle out of his strong grip. "You know I'm an idiot!"

"Bloody hell, I sure do!" the fairer-haired blond screamed. "Git!"

"Yes, I want to be the first between my brother and the fat-ass to get married! But at the same time, I really do want to marry you! I'm not just doing it because of some historical race this time! It's not even half the reason!" he turned the huffing man to face him. "That's only, like...Point zero zero one percent of why I want to marry you! The other percents are point three for a hamburger buffet and then ninety-nine point...Shit, I suck at math! But the rest of it is because I really do love you!"

"_EVERY _day is hamburger buffet day with you, you giant wanker!" both were red in the face now.

"That's not the point! The point is I love you!" Alfred made sure to stare directly into Arthur's eyes. "I love you so much, Arthur, that sometimes I want to kill myself because our history is so messed up and it doesn't make any sense! But at the same time, it does! And we drive each other crazy and there are days we can't stand each other, but at the same time our stupid fights and your less than desirable attitude makes me love you even more than I ever thought possible, you know?"

Arthur did know, but his large eyebrows were knit together, scowl still firmly in place.

"I don't even fucking care if we get married first! That doesn't matter to me anymore! At all! But just say yes, because if you turn me down I'm going to go through another Great Depression, I swear! The personal kind!"

Alfred was out of breath. As a hero, he was a natural speaker. But at the same time his emotions were getting to him. He meant every word he said, and they both knew it. He could see that those emerald eyes he loved Arthur's mind was working, contemplating and mulling over everything, leaving the American to wait apprehensively with bated breath.

"No."

"...What?"

"I'm not going to be angry with you or break up with you," Arthur stated calmly. "And I would say yes, but..."

"But what?"

The Brit mumbled something incomprehensible under his breath, his eyes shifting to look anywhere but his face, cheeks a lovely shade of crimson.

"Speak up, Iggy!"

"I SAID," he started to shout before lowering his voice back to normal, "I don't want to remember your proposal with recollection of an awful misunderstanding with you making me sticky from the milkshake I threw in your face!"

"...Oh..."

And then Alfred laughed, because that was just so like Arthur.

* * *

"Oh my God...You butt-dialed him?" Delaney hid her smile behind her hand, but her shaking shoulders and muffled laughs gave her away.

"Shut up. It was all your fault," America pouted. "But it worked out in the end. I'm going to propose again when he least expects it. Just gotta wait awhile so I can throw him off!"

* * *

Three months. Arthur Kirkland glared at himself in the mirror as he thought about it. It had been three months since the disastrous Johnny Rocket's fiasco. Still no new proposal from America. England had started to doubt his love's sincerity. He stopped expecting after awhile.

Then the next World Conference rolled around.

"First order of business," Alfred's cowlick seemed to stand at extra attention today. "is international relations!"

France's perverse laughter could be heard floating in the room among embarrassed moans and groans. Hungary whipped out her camera, just in case.

"Some of us are getting married, as we all know."

"Who?" South Korea interrupted. "Marriage was invented in Korea! I should know if others are practicing one of my many ancient customs!"

"Er...Right...Well, anyway, it's Canada and the creepy guy sitting a few chairs away from you," Alfred explained.

"Who?"

"Russia. Big, psycho, fat, annoying, useless blob of creepiness."

"America is quite funny, da?" Russia giggled, his childlike laughter quickly turning into a string of "kolkolkolkolkol".

"No, Canada. Where's he?" Im Yong Soo looked around.

Alfred scanned the room before him, scattered with nations. After awhile he gave up and shrugged. "Around. Anyway!"

England sighed and looked at his watch. They were wasting time, as usual.

"I'm here to talk about international relations! Because we're not just nations...No, no, my friends...We are people! And I am a person who loves another person!"

'_Oh, God...Not now, please...' _Arthur's head met the desk with a loud thump. '_Please don't tell me he's about to do what I think he's about to do...'_

"And it is my right to marry the person I love more than life itself! More than hamburgers!" A few gasps were elicited from that statement. "And so...I ask Arthur Kirkland, in front of the entire world...Will you marry me?"

"Oh, fuck!" Arthur cursed, loud enough to be heard by nearly everyone. A hurt look stole itself across Alfred's face. Everyone was staring, and the easily embarrassed man knew he had already lost the battle with his face that was surely a magnificent red by now. He could see America starting to sweat, his answer taking too long.

He sighed. "You're a moron and you have no damn taste, but yes...I'll marry you...Now shut up and quit making such a fool out of-!"

Confetti suddenly poured from the ceiling and balloons floated in. To his dismay, behind Alfred the projector was displaying a tacky sign made to look like fireworks in red, white, and blue flashing "HE SAID YES!"

"WOOOOOHOOO! YEEAAAAAH! WOOOO!" Alfred screamed as he dashed towards his new, mortified fiance.

Canada started passing out foam fingers with "AmericaxEngland! Save The Date!" on them to every nation at the conference.

To his dismay, the likes of Italy, Prussia, and Korea sported theirs in public.

Arthur didn't leave his house for two weeks.

* * *

"YOU SUCK, JONES!" she hollered at him, glove and hand cupped around her mouth as a makeshift microphone. "CAN'T HIT A DAMN THING!"

"Baby girl, you're a Jones too! Wouldn't be talkin'!" Alfred smirked at his daughter, waving the bat over his shoulder in a cocky manner like the pros.

"Yeah, I know. But we got him!" she pointed to her team's pitcher. "YOU GOT NOTHIN'!"

Sanosuke Karpusi sighed and pulled down the brim of his Tokyo Yomiuri Giants baseball cap. Jones backyard, family baseball got so intense it was funny and scary at the same time. He remembered that even when they were just kids Elizabeth would trash talk her mouth off, despite not being a star player herself.

He tried to avoid getting sucked into their games whenever possible, but today there was no getting out of it. Not without Rosalina there to change Lizzie's mind about playing baseball. Sanosuke could never get out of a game alone.

Elizabeth Madison Jones was far too cute for the son of Japan and Greece to deny anything.

_'Damn you, Rosalina!' _he thought to himself as he wound up the pitch. '_Stupid Italian blood making you chase after hot guys! If your father knew-!'_

But thoughts of his other best friend were wiped from his mind when America used his super strength to knock the ball in England's direction. It was much too fast and high to be caught, but Arthur gasped and ran for it at full speed.

Finally, he stopped to pick what looked like nothing from the ground and into the palm of his hand. He noticed Elizabeth looked equally distraught.

"YOU GIT! YOU HIT NAVI!" Arthur shouted at him, throwing his husband a dirty look.

"Who?"

"My fairy, Daddy! How could you?" Lizzie wailed, joining her mother.

Her younger twin brothers, Benjamin and Thomas, snickered from the back porch where they were waiting for their turn at bat. "Hey, listen!"

Elizabeth scowled at their joke. "Shut up, morons, or I'll smash your guitar and shove my foot through every drum you own!"

"BITCH, DON'T YOU DARE!" the two Alfred lookalikes shouted in unison.

"LANGUAGE!" Iggy shouted.

"HAMBURGERS!" Alfred threw off his glove and made his way to the grill.

"Yeah, I'm pretty hungry too, now that you mention it..." Elizabeth murmured, having recovered from her high.

Sanosuke sighed as he watched his crush's family settle down in a matter of seconds, all with the exception of Arthur ecstatic to indulge in burgers shaped like Texas.

The Jones family was messed up, but he liked it, Sano decided as he sat down with them. They were hardly perfect, and not a bit harmonious, but there was something nice about having siblings around to tease and pick on. There was something spectacular about how their home was never quiet.

When it would be finally time to say goodbye and time to take his leave for Greece, a feeling of dread would wash over him. Back to his quiet home with his quiet parents. Just another boring day. He truly envied his two closest friends with their large families.

A paradox was what the Jones family was, Sano thought to himself. Perfectly imperfect and harmoniously inharmonious.

Everyone present knew they wouldn't have it any other way.

* * *

Yeah, I had no idea how to finish this. Writer's block. But I wanted to get it done. I'm sorry it's not the best, but USUK isn't my type to write...Like, I ship it...But I just can't write it...Funny, because I love both characters, too...But it's just not my cup of tea. Sorry, Iggy.

Anyway, you can probably tell it's rushed, but at least it's out...I don't think I could really make it any better. I'm sorry, but I just couldn't put my heart into this one...

We're back to Alicia's story in the next chapter, by the way. Or rather, Prussia and NJ's story about how Alicia came to be.

Because only Prussia would have a kid out of wedlock, amiright? XD

Please keep putting up with me and bearing with me! Hopefully this was a nice little break from the angst machine, right? Even if it's not as fluffy and touchy-feely as some may have hoped...

And as for Canada and Russia...Yeah, they just kinda disappeared, didn't they? Oh, poor Russia...Canda is rubbing off on you!


End file.
